


Beating Crime Black and Blue

by ReadWithDetermination



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Romance, Good Cop Bad Cop, Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Interpol - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Nightmare Sans - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Prejudice Against Monsters (Undertale), Racism, Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Swapfell Toriel (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, buddy cop, dream sans - Freeform, rottenberry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReadWithDetermination/pseuds/ReadWithDetermination
Summary: Interpol agent Black is tasked with solving a high-profile disappearance case when he is partnered with the exuberant and cheerful Blue.  Will Black be able to handle Blue's eccentric personality and solve the case, or will Blue's penchant for getting into trouble spell disaster for the already disgraced detective?Just who was this mysterious monster last seen with the missing person?  Does a shady underground group known as the Shadow Skulls have something to do with his disappearance?  And does Black's sanity have any chance of survival?  Stay tuned to find out!
Relationships: RottenBerry (SF!Sans/US!Sans), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 48





	1. CHAPTER ONE:  "Interpol's Finest"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Black, one of Interpol's finest.  
> Finest failures, that is - at least, according to some sources.  
> When the detective inspector calls Black in for a new assignment, it's up to him to take a chance to shuck his infamous office moniker as the "Defective Detective".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Had to delete this because, of COURSE, it was one of _Jerry's_ lines that accidentally italicized the whole fic and I couldn't fix it!
> 
> Inspired by a comment thread with HailSam and this: https://odderancyart.tumblr.com/post/183077732411/rottenberry-when-blue-came-home-from-work-he
> 
> Since HailSam's doing the crime take, I'll try the crime _fighting_ side!  
> Did I choose the characters I did simply so I could turn the title into a pun? Maaaaybe...
> 
> More info in the footnotes!

CHAPTER ONE: "Interpol's Finest"  
————————

Any officer worth their salt knew what the building at 1004 Monteblanc Street was. The grand and stately building with its rough, white brick exterior, skyscraper-length windows, and the multitude of flag poles, each bedecked with a freely flying swath of cloth, drew the eye like the stamens of a flower would a bee. If there was anyone who had no idea of the significance of this great structure nestled amidst a sprawling track of forested land was, then they need but look at the words chiseled into the polished marble sign that adorned the front quad:

_International Criminal Police Organization_

Some days, the inside of the ICPO (or Interpol as it was commonly known) complex bustled with the energy of the hundreds of workers, both civilians and law enforcement. During others, the energy within skyrocketed, with people scurrying to and fro to carry messages, assemble response teams, and retrieve vital information for whichever department was in dire need. Still other days brought a hush over the building, choking its occupants with high tension, with the silence broken only by the occasional ding of the elevator, the squeak of a janitor's cart, and the booming or screechy voice of one of the higher-ups.

Most days, however, the usual cadence was suppressed to a bearable din, where the ebb and flow of the employees was scarcely broken by anything out of routine.

Each floor held a different department, a different level regarding the various crimes fought by the members of this prestigious organization and the fields in which they worked: medical, administrative, forensic, cyber security, communications, law enforcement.

On the tenth floor, the elevator doors slid open to reveal a sea of various agents, all smartly garbed in the dark, nearly black navy uniforms of Interpol's law enforcement. A consistent clicking of keyboard keys, ringing phones, and chattering of voices made up the theme song for these workers' daily routine. Every now and then, the ocean of uniforms was broken up by a little flash of color - the printed blouses of administrative staff, the white of a lab coat, the eye-catching suit of PR personnel. 

Of course, if one were to look past the dress code each agent saw day in and day out, you would notice a myriad of differences between the staff.

After all, who wouldn't notice the eight-foot-tall dog, his tail wagging tremulously as he regarded the crime map in front of him? Or the living Venus fly trap, its eyes perched well above and nearly hidden over its great gaping maw? A few others buzzed or floated around over the heads of the others as an enormous bird, its features roughly between that of a pelican and an albatross, swooped down from the ceiling, stuffing a dust cloth into the utility belt of its brownish-gray jumpsuit.

Monsters had been a major part of Interpol for nearly a quarter century now. While some of them might get a few odd stares on the street, in here, they were just another uniform, another badge number. Nothing distracting for anyone who had worked there for more than a couple weeks.

The same should have been true for the monster that stepped out of the elevator.

The gleaming white of his visible bones was no more obvious than that of Greater Dog's fur. Neither were his eyelights, a hazy indigo which flickered between deep purple and a potent blue, any more disconcerting than Red Bird's brilliant plumage. The semi-permanent sharklike grin that cut across his face sharply contrasted with the serious set to his jaw and the brooding tilt of his brow ridges, and yet, any of the Whimsums that darted above him with their stacks of paperwork and dangling reems of communication reports would likely draw the eye far more quickly.

At least, when he didn't want to be seen.

He stepped smartly out from the elevator, the heels of his boots clacking across the tiled floor. His eyes remained locked on the door at the far end of the room, ignoring the ceasing of chatter around him as he approached, as well as the whispers that followed in his wake. He could see through the slanted blinds behind the glass that his host awaited him.

As he reached the door, he removed his hat with a practiced flourish and tucked it beneath his arm before knocking. It was a formality, of course. The person inside already knew of his approach, having summoned the skeleton monster herself. He waited the customary couple of seconds before inviting himself in.

Sitting behind a great wooden desk, beyond the stacks of manila folders and various papers, sat the imposing figure of a goat monster. Her dress was very similar to his own, with a few noticeable differences. The gleaming golden stars upon her epaulettes and the badge on her chest, as well as the glimpse of a tie and suit shirt beneath the uniform top announced her title. Her horns curved back delicately above a crown of snow white fur. However, anyone close enough could well regard the fleshy slits that peeked through the pale strands - scars from a close encounter she had half a lifetime ago when she was still just a rookie agent.

He immediately brought his hand up in a sharp salute.

"At ease," came the poised response. Her stature, especially when drawn up to her full height, could be a terrifying thing to behold. However, when not in active command or the line of fire, the goat woman's voice exuded a soothing warmth. One glance at the happy, equally colossal buck goat and the beaming kid perched upon his shoulders in the framed picture upon her desk revealed where she had perfected her motherly demeanor. "Please, come in. And do close the door behind you."

With a curt nod and a "yes ma'am", the skeleton obliged, pulling the door to behind him. He remained standing, as protocol dictated, and waited for further instructions. The goat, however, gave him a cursory look.

"You wanted to see me, Detective Inspector?" the skeleton asked.

"So formal today," his superior noted. "It has been a good while since I have seen you thus."

The skeleton said nothing, though any who truly knew him would have been able to sense that, behind the stoic display of professionalism, there was a tension rising. He was swift and efficient in his work, and moved with a grace one would not expect someone born without muscles or sinews to be able to accomplish. However, there was an unusual rigidity to his stance, a sharpness to his movements that hinted at a keen vigilance.

Very few were close enough to him to read his tells so well. However, the goat was one of them. She smiled softly.

"Black, you may breathe now," she told him. "I have not called you here for lecture over your performance or anything of the sort. Now, come," she said, gesturing to the padded chairs that sat before her desk, "take a seat! I have something to discuss with you."

The skeleton - one Sans "Black" Swapfell - did as he was told and took the seat farthest from the door. 

The inspector sat aside her pen and clasped her furred fingers together. "How are you getting on, Detective?"

Black sat perched in his seat as if he knew it might catch fire at any moment. "Better, Detective Inspector."

The goat woman scoffed.

"We are the only two here, _little one_ ," she said, her lips drawing back into a mischievous grin as she saw the slight twinge of annoyance cross his malleable facial bones. "If you continue to refer to me by anything other than my name, then I will be very disappointed in you. You have not grown so old that you have forgotten how long we have known each other."

It was true. Black knew Toriel for well over half his life. She had been a mentor to him, a role model anyone would be proud to have. It was her influence that drove him to become an agent in the first place. Oh, of course, she tried to talk him out of it, considering how difficult some of the things she dealt with on a daily basis could have caused lesser monsters to burn out years ago. Black, however, was born stubborn, and remaining persistent had gotten him this far. In another life, Toriel might have adopted him, but in the end had to be content for putting him on the right path once she was sure he was unwilling to stray from it.

"Very well, Toriel," Black said with a nod.

Toriel just shook her head. "Young man, you can be so stubborn sometimes-"

A moment later and the door flew open, the blinds on their inverse side rattling with a _whap!_ back against the glass as they ricocheted from the momentum. Black stiffened, even more than he already was, and his eyelights flared. He growled under his breath.

A gray, hammerheaded creature with six noodle-like limbs toddled in, casting a look around the room with a sneer beneath two squinted black eyes.

"Well, well," the monster said, looking over Black as one might do their shoe after stepping in gum, "if it isn't the Defective Detective."

Black dug his nails into the armrests of the chair, his teeth gritted together as tightly as possible to avoid popping off on the newcomer. Toriel sounded just as displeased.

"Jerry, why are you in my office?"

"Some of the _real_ agents-" he said, drawing out the 'real' for emphasis, "-saw a liability walk into your office, and I wanted to make sure he didn't screw anything else up."

If it was possible to sound like you were whining every time you opened you mouth, then you would have Jerry's voice. Jerry hated Black. Correction: Jerry hated pretty much anyone that wasn't Jerry or someone whom he wanted something from. Even those that were on his list of current interests he annoyed with pretty much any little thing that came out of his mouth. His had a personality that could grate cheese - which, coincidentally, had a tendency to match the odor of rancid Parmesan that occasionally wafted from him. If that wasn't bad enough, the renown office menace often sprayed what smelled like half a bottle of cheap cologne over the mess, causing the eyes of some of the more allergen-sensitive people around him to water.

Toriel was thoroughly unamused. "A Detective Inspector should know better than to display such a flagrant degree of unprofessionalism as name calling."

Jerry made a disgusted sound. "If he can't take it, then maybe he should find work elsewhere. I'm sure there's a back alley brawl somewhere that needs another walking knuckle buster."

Black's grip tightened, causing the fake leather to squelch beneath his bony fingers. His attempt to bore a hole through Jerry's head with a glower was interrupted by Toriel's chair being shoved away from the desk so fast that it knocked into the bookshelves behind her. She slammed her palms down flat on the desktop, the sound loud enough to garner the attention of several agents outside the office. Jerry had the decency to look momentarily perturbed.

"If you cannot set a good example for the lower-ranking agents, then I will head to the superintendent's office and let him know how you are taunting-"

"Oh, give it rest, Goat Mom," Jerry said with a fleer. 

Black shot up from his chair at that one. No one, especially not that noodle-limbed, noodle- _brained_ amalgamation of a frog and a jellyfish, was allowed to disrespect Detective Inspector Toriel that way! Not while he was there!

Toriel, however, seemed to take Jerry's taunting remarks in stride, and stuck out a hand toward Black. "Detective Swapfell!" The skeleton monster turned at attention, but kept his eyes on the monster in the doorway. Jerry recovered from another flinch before putting his hands on his hips.

"Oh, would you look at that? Showing his true colors again! Might want to see about getting a few suppressants for that LV of yours-"

Black's finger bones clenched into a fist, making the bones clatter as they did, and his eyelights flickered into an ethereal, almost electric violet.

" _Jerry_."

The monster in question turned toward Toriel. The goat narrowed her eyes as she drew herself up, towering over the offending monster, her muzzle pulling back to reveal wicked fangs. Her motherly demeanor was gone and, in its place, rose the street-hardened detective inspector who had clawed her way through the ranks. She had closed more cases than an undertaker caskets, and many of those had been some of the most violent and depraved crimes perpetrated among humans or monsters. 

She wasn't like the office menace. She neither whined nor whinged to get her way.

And she most certainly didn't take discrimination mildly.

" _Get. Out._ "

Her voice rumbled lowly, coming out in nearly a snarl. The rising magical energy from her had quickly quashed Black's own, and was now squeezing the air out of the room, the tension building until it was ready to burst. Jerry was practically holding a loaded gun and playing with the trigger; one more word, one false step, and Jerry just might wind up a smear across the titled floor.

Black would have paid dearly to see that.

He glanced outside and saw that even more agents had begun to turn their attention toward the ruckus in the opened office. Jerry seemed to notice this and, clearing his throat, whined, "I don't have to take this from you and your pet," he spat, "if that's the case. The two of you always have been awfully close..."

The lewd implications of that statement made Black feel sick, and he had said it loud enough for the staff closest to the door to hear. Just this once, he was tempted to prove Jerry right and tear him apart with his bare hands.

Strangely, Toriel began to chuckle. "I will be seeing you in Superintendant Schroeder's office. I am sure he would just love to hear what you have had to say."

Most people, when they sweat, didn't usually due so to the extent that it was very noticeable. Monsters might, on occasion, weep a fluid similar to their most prevalent magical color at times in addition to usual perspiration, but few did so the way Jerry did. If Black didn't know any better, he would swear Jerry sweat the way he did on purpose. Huge dollops of a pale purple-pink oozed out from the sides of Jerry's conical dome, releasing more of his trademark rancid cheese smell before taking a step back. He seemed to realize that no one was stepping up to his defense, and that made him literally sweat magical bullets.

Nobody - and Black did mean _nobody_ , including Jerry - could easily get away with making crude jokes over someone's LV level. There were far too many humans in the building that had had to take down dangerous suspects on the beat or were military veterans. Monsters often didn't have to resort to lethal attacks due to the ability to make magical shields or stunning attacks, but it had happened. Some of the EXP was acquired on the job, while others brought it with them. The superintendent was very adamant about anyone who had been involved in a fatal altercation on the job to go through counseling and, in the case of monsters, if necessary, have access to LV suppressants.

And Superintendent Schroeder thought the sun rose and fell on his former ace agent, Toriel. 

Black could only hope Jerry would come out of the meeting worse for the wear, but the chances of Jerry actually getting canned would be nothing short of a miracle. Chances are, he'd just make everyone around him's lives hell for a week out of revenge.

"Whatever," Jerry said, "I'm sure the superintendent will be just as pleased to hear when your detective blows this case all to smithereens, too. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to find some decent coffee. The garbage my assistant brought me tastes like a moldy gym sock."

With that, Jerry loped out of the door, banging into two rookie agents and knocking over an administrative assistant, sending the stack of reports he held scattering across the floor. 

As Black watched him leave, he couldn't help the smart remark that tumbled out of him. "How many moldy gym socks do you think he eats daily to smell like that?"

Shaking her head, Toriel just sighed and walked over to close the door. 

"I am sorry about him," she told Black. "I have seldom been glad to see an officer go, but the day that monster retires is the day I'm bringing champagne to work." She walked over to her desk and picked up a manila envelope and handed it to Black. "This is why I called you here this morning."

"What is this?"

"Do you really want to stay on that wire fraud case, or would you rather do something more geared toward your aptitudes?"

Black, horrified at the thought of going back to scanning reems upon reems of printed emails from the latest spammer scam, eagerly opened up the folder and began scanning the details. His eyelights honed in on a few names and he stopped short, casting a bewildered look at Toriel. 

"The _mayor?!_ "

"Asked for you personally. Or, well, 'heavily suggested' it."

Interpol considered itself an intergovernmental organization, but they tried to stay out of politics. However, were not an agency that could make arrests or issue wrrants, as that fell into the domain of whatever law enforcement jurisdiction the area they were helping out in commanded. Black's branch just so happened to be within the city limits of where Mayor Jones presided. A cursory look over the case notes told him that the location of the crime and persons of interest hailed from the same area.

Still...

"But, I thought-"

Toriel's expression softened. "I have looked over the case, and if the mayor had any misgivings, I know he would not have asked for one of my best detectives by name. Despite recent events, or perhaps even due to them, your reputation precedes you. And, while I should not play favorites, your knack for getting results has no equal among your peers. A keener eye and a more analytical mind he could not have gotten for this case."

The goat woman stuck out her hands.

"Now," she aaked, "do you accept the case?"

Black's tension died away as he snapped the folder shut, standing to shake Toriel's hand. "I won't let you down, ma'am!"

Toriel raised an eyebrow, making his chuckle.

"Pardon me, I won't let you down, _Toriel_."

The goat monster beamed, showing off her sharp canines as they shook on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, for my first Mature work! Whoo!
> 
> If the CIA agent who was watching my internet activity last night thought he was going to have an interesting day because all I was doing was researching Interpol and various criminal case details, he was wrong. ("Aww, dammit..." "Another writer, Bill?" "Yes, ma'am...")  
> I've likely butchered how some of how Interpol operates and their dress code, but I was relying on what I could find online. 
> 
> At least Black ain't Zenigata, okay? XD
> 
> Black (Swapfell Purple Sans) is going to be more of a Detective Lestrade/Sherlock Holmes combo with a chip on his shoulder, while Blue is going to be his usual cheerful self with a penchant for getting into trouble (think Jacques Clouseau meets Mr. Magoo). At least, that's where I'm going with this Good Cop/Bad Cop concept.
> 
> This is definitely a darker, more serious attempt at writing in more of a novel format. I didn't want to give away some of the plot so I won't give certain trigger warnings until the notes before certain chapters. I did put a violence warning up because, hey, it's a detective AU and there's crime.
> 
> Anyway, that's all for now. This might update a little slower than the other stories because I have a backlog on projects right now, but I had this plot bunny and I just had to get this started. Let me know what you think! Please and thank you!


	2. CHAPTER TWO: "The Case"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black meets up with some former teammates and goes over the details of the case.  
> However, not everything goes according to plan when his usual arresting officer from that jurisdiction reveals she won't be along for the ride...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized that this is my first fic of the NEW YEAR! Whoo! Go me! :D
> 
> Time for more butchering of how Interpol works for the sake of this fic.

CHAPTER TWO: "The Case"  
—————————

The reasons behind why Interpol was involved were twofold:

One, the supposed crime took place in international waters, just beyond the border of the local police and Coast Guard's reach.

Secondly, it involved the son of one Reginald Jefferson Thurston.

That name might not have meant much to the ordinary layperson, but to anyone who was anyone in Black's city, that name meant power and money. The Thurston family had been in business for several generations, originally finding their mark in a small ferry business back when the nation was young. Over the course of several generations, the wide-reaching hand of the Thurston family empire had dipped its fingers into multiple financial pots, and now several prominent businesses were headed by its most recent patriarch. 

The main reason Interpol got involved was due to Reginald and his son, Prescott, being involved in quite a few international dealings. Reginald's passion had always been in boats: fast boats, slow boats, sail boats, yachts, sports boats. Any pleasure vessel below the grade of cruise ship got the Thurston seal of approval. The man had a saying about how, if he had been born a fish, nothing could have kept him from the water - but, as he was just an ordinary human, he had to settle with the next best thing.

"'Ordinary human', indeed," Black scoffed as he walked along the pier. Those in places of grand wealth and power just loved to sprinkle humble-bragging throughout their little monologues. Black had known enough of the sort. They were all windbags, puffed up on their own fame and narcissism, especially the ones who came from family money. They always wore those grand, false smiles, flashing their teeth in a way that was intended to be a facade of friendliness but belied a hidden viciousness beneath - or worse, an sociopathic indifference. 

Black knew that if he CHECKed some of their SOULs, he would find nothing but a vapid, pathetic waste of oxygen awaited him.

However, CHECKing a human could be a gray area, possibly seen as a threatening precursor to a violent altercation, especially for those hoity-toity types who would just as soon sue you as look at you. They were like a sponge trying to wring more and more money out of the miserable wretches around them. No, scratch that. They were like Trapdoor Spiders, their masks seemingly innocuous, and their true selves hidden away until their prey walked into their clutches, when their real natures would burst forth and snatch up whatever they pleased. To swindle, to seduce, to mar whole lives? It mattered not why, only that the had enough power to _do_.

Those sort of humans were all the same.

Black took a look down at the photo in his hand.

Prescott Thurston. Like his father, he, too, had a great love of the sea. However, rather than investing his time and effort into the construction of and importation of ship-making materials, the Thurston heir had been given to competitive racing. He had spent years training himself up, making history by breaking several records. In regatta, he had raced both with a crew and single-manned vessels, doing all with the flash of a brilliant smile.

He looked innocent enough.

They all did, once.

Perhaps the younger Thurston had yet to sample his father's lust for business prowess. He was young, after all. The older Thurston hadn't gotten around to running smaller, independently owned companies into the ground until he was twenty-five. Of course, Prescott might have been turned like some nth-generation trust fund children, fated to party hardy until Daddy got tired of sparing the buck and having his degenerate offspring run his name into the ground.

Black examined the photo once more. Human, Caucasian but with a tanned olive touch to his flesh enough to suggest possible Mediterranean heritage, as did the thick head of jet black hair swept back into a sporty cut. The high cheekbones and square jaw, still slender from youth, suggested possibly Slavic or Nordic roots. Black noted that the mother, Reginald's third wife and the only one to produce a child, had been a professional dancer from Greece. He suspected, however, that if he did a bit more research into the family, he would find that desperate call of the sea came from the icy reaches of Scandinavia or Northern Eurasia.

Toriel had once joked he was walking facial recognition software - ironic considering that he, as a skeleton monster, was all bones with none of the soft fleshy features of humans or other monsters. He'd had a great deal of practice during his time in Lyon, interning for the head branch of Interpol. The place had been a living hub for humans from all over the globe and, in his attempt to memorize as many of the faces from the various color-coded Notices Interpol sent out, had developed something of an eidetic memory when it came to recognizing the various features of humans from all across the world. He often made a game of it, trying to figure out exactly what accent or language would come out of the person's mouth, simply based on his own observations.

He found the boat soon enough. Even if he hadn't read the case file and had a digital backup copy stored in his PDA, it was hard not to notice the dark uniforms and waterproof jackets emblazoned with INTERPOL and the local city police department. He threw his head back and strode up to the investigator in charge. When he saw who it was, he couldn't help but crack a smile.

"I should have known that if there was water, there would be a fish around here," he said, catching the attention of a tall, athletic monster. The blue-skinned woman's finned ears twitched and she milled around, her long red hair whipping around and nearly whipping the yellow lizard monster beside her in the face. Her visible eye (the other was covered under an eyepatch) locked onto Black and her grin turned practically feral.

Black merely smirked and opened his arms. Protocol was never very high on Sergeant Undyne's list when it came to her friends. Immediately, Black found himself scooped up and spun around as the fish monster barked out a joyous laugh. He was thankful he'd had a chance to summon his ecto body before she grabbed him, as her hugs could very nearly snap spines. 

He patted her on the head and waved to the yellow lizard, who seemed just as overjoyed once she realized who Undyne had latched herself onto.

Undyne set him down with a flourish and ruffled the hat on his head. "How the hell have you been, squirt?! I haven't seen you in a dog's age!" 

The lizard stepped up next to her and slung her arm around Black's shoulders, giving him a half-hug. "Better not tell Dogaressa that," she told Undyne. "She's still mad at you over knocking the coffee all over her biscuits."

The fish monster let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, she'd probably kill me if I called her old."

Black grinned, feeling quite at home among his old team. "Toriel let you back on the beat finally?" the lizard asked. Black looked up at her red reptilian eyes, watching the pale membrane of an inner eyelid flicker over them, the thin, jagged slip of a scar cutting a gash from her forehead down her cheek.

"Yeah, Alph, no thanks to Jerry, though."

"Ugh! Freaking Jerry!" Undyne spat. The lizard - Police Captain Alphys - nodded grimly. "That little turd should have been forced out years ago. The only reason he's been around so long is because nobody can find a reason to fire him, and he keeps getting promoted to different departments so no one will have to deal with him for a while."

"Hey, maybe you should suggest he head over to medical," Alphys added, "I'm sure your sister could use the surgical practice."

"Yeah, get her to sew his mouth shut," Black suggested. 

Undyne huffed and stuck her hands on her hips. "Hey, don't be so mean! Besides, you know how bad he smells when he sweats. You want that smell stuck on you the next time you and Nerd go out to lunch?"

Alphys' face tinged orange, and she readjusted her police hat, tugging the brim down slightly - as if that would hide anything. "No..."

Undyne started to laugh again. Alphys growled at her.

"H-hey, stop laughing, you overgrown piranha! Or I'll tell _my_ little sister about those fanfictions you wrote of the two of you!"

The fish gasped. "You wouldn't!"

Alphys crossed her arms over her chest. "Try me," she said, giving her a cocky smirk.

Black just shook his head. He'd really missed these two and their bickering. "Hate to break up the lovefest, ladies, but we do have a job to do."

The other Interpol agent and the police officer nodded, turning back to the matter at hand. Undyne gestured over to the ship where several officers and agents were hard at work, swabbing for specimen samples, collecting fingerprints, and taking crime scene photographs. As they stepped up on deck, Alphys turned to him.

"How much of the case file did you read?"

"All of it," Black added, clasping his hands behind his back before he began listing off the known facts of the case. "Prescott Thurston, aged twenty-three years, born January 3rd in Barcelona, Spain, to father Reginald Jefferson Thurston and mother Catalina Michelakos. Only child and sole heir to the Thurston name. Three time champion racer of various sailing competitions in Europe, all before the age of eighteen, placing at least fifth in every annual competition in Belgium, Denmark, the UK, and Italy since that time-"

He had begun pacing about the ship, looking around for clues, but spun on his heel and raised a finger for emphasis. 

"-EXCEPT for this year! Prescott has only competed in two races, despite claiming to want to go after the Championship again in Belgium. There has been no reason for it, no injuries or known mental defect, and neither time nor money were of any object. His father claims he began acting strangely toward his last race on June 12th of this year, becoming more secretive and socially withdrawn. Then, roughly a week ago, Mr. Thurston woke up to learn his son was gone. As Prescott often went to visit friends on a spur of the moment, his father assumed he had done just that. However, after not hearing from his son for two days, he began contacting those that knew him. When none of Prescott's friends had seen him, he went down to the marina to see if Prescott might be practicing as was his wont to do."

"However, this boat," Black clapped the railing, "was missing. Upon asking marina management how long it had been missing, they insisted it had been three days. Security footage then revealed that at 23:12 hours on Wednesday, October 6th, Prescott Thurston was seen arriving at the pier with an unknown party thought to be a female aquatic monster. They were seen to be arguing, with the monster in question shaking her head and pulling back away from Prescott. Prescott seemed highly agitated. At roughly 23:25, same night, the argument ceased as Prescott and the monster choose to board the vessel, which then proceeds to head out of frame."

Black stops and stands up straight. 

"Then, at 04:38 hours, American fishermen find the ship out in international waters. No one appeared to be on board, nor did they answer any attempts at radio communication, so it was radioed into emergency services. Once the craft was boarded, it was discovered that it had been abandoned. The vessel was then promptly hauled back to shore and the father contacted."

Alphys gave a slow clap, and Black took a bow. "I'm always surprised how you can remember all of that. College must have been a breeze for you when it came finals times," Alphys told him. Black merely smirked.

"So," he swiped a cursory look over the deck, "since you are to be my arresting officer, what clues have your team found this morning?"

Alphys chuckled nervously and scratched the bag of her head, accidentally tipping her hat and leaving it perched on her head crookedly. "Actually, I'm not your liaison this time around."

Black blinked. Not his liaison? But Alphys _always_ was his arresting officer whenever they had to work a case in the city! At least, when it came to anything but customs. Usually, he got stuck with stuff old Chilldrake when it came to digging through straw-filled crates of stolen archaeological goods and illegal weaponry.

"Don't tell me they're sending Chilldrake out on this," he said. The bird monster was nice and all, but boy, could he ramble! If it wasn't about archaeology and the abominable nature of cultural crimes, then it was about his wife and child. Black could stand some puns, but hearing the same knock-knock joke his kid came up with - which was already a snoozer at best - a total of five times in the span of a half-hour? At that point, he almost started to miss Jerry.

A little.

Okay, not at all, but still!

Alphys shook her head. "Nah, Chilldrake's good at customs violations, but he can't investigate people to save his life. No, when the mayor called this one in to the commissioner, he wanted the brightest minds we had on the case. And, seeing as I've gotta get back to a triple homicide now that the perimeter here has been secured, it looks like you're going to be stuck with my protegee."

Black raised an eyebrow ridge. "'Protegee'?"

Alphys nodded. "Mmm-hmm!" Then she walked over to the stairway, cupped a hand around her mouth, and bellowed down below. "HEY, BLUE! GET YOUR BONY BUTT UP HERE! THE CAVALRY'S HERE!"

If Black only knew just what was headed up those stairs, he might have been just a bit more concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, if you couldn't tell, we have UT!Undyne and SF!Alphys in this one.   
> And yes, I did hint that SF!Undyne is UT's twin and UT!Alphys is SF's little sister. I'll make sure it doesn't get too confusing if I use similar AU characters, but I wasn't just gonna leave our favorite fish and lizards without their lady loves! No, that good shit's gotta be established right now XD
> 
> So...theories on the case?  
> What do you all think of how Black here is depicted? The others? Let me know!


	3. CHAPTER THREE:  "Meet the New Partner"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black meets Alphys' replacement and begins to question his life choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this might update slowed than the other fic, but I really wanted to get Blue introduced into the story.  
> I may or may not have ran out of the house with my hair wet on my way to work because I ran out of time as I wanted to finish this so badly XD

CHAPTER THREE: "Meet the New Partner"  
————————

His temporary partner was...unique, to say the least.

Blue, as Alphys called him, was another skeleton monster like Black, and roughly the same height. However, he may as well have been a rabbit monster for how fast he flew up the stairs. He literally jumped the last three, landing in a dynamic pose on the deck, one hand on his hip and the other pointed straight up into the air. Rather than a water-resistant jacket, his long suit coat (perhaps slightly too long on him) whirled around him, both it and his tie flapping in the wind. A gleaming silver badge hung loose from a lanyard looped around his neck, and a great wide grin split his face.

"Never fear! The Magnificent Sans is here!"

"Blue, we talked about this," Alphys grumbled as she facepalmed. Undyne just laughed. Black slowly turned his head as the other skeleton began to laugh manically. The police captain muttered under her hand. "Sorry, he's a little excitable."

Black turned back to see Blue now looking at them. He could definitely see where Blue got his nickname if the bright cobalt starry eyes were anything to go by. Blue lowered his second hand to his free hip and stood with arms akimbo, his chest pushed out like a robin.

"Blue," Alphys said, gesturing toward the Interpol agent, "this is Detective Sans Swapfell from Interpol. Most of us call him Black. He's-"

Before she could finish, Black jumped, readying himself to run. A high-pitched whine filled the air, reminding him of what sounded like incoming artillery. He grabbed Alphys by the arm, looking around to see where the noise was coming from, only to realize that it was coming from the very skeleton in front of him - and getting louder. Incredulous, Black stared as the starry eyelights grew twice their size, nearly filling their void sockets, as Blue's clenched fists could barely contain the widening grin behind them.

Suddenly, Blue shot forward, nearly yanking Black's hand out of socket as he shook it with all of the energy of a hamster on coffee. And perhaps on fire.

"Black Swapfell? _The_ Black Swapfell? The agent that recovered 100 pieces of stolen art in one night? The same guy who caught the international car thief Frederico Calderon and made him drive them both back to the police station in the last car he stole? The monster who found the kidnapped duchess fourteen years after she was abducted from her cradle?! THAT BLACK SWAPFELL?!"

"Uh..." Black's eyelights shifted toward his colleagues. Undyne was too busy holding her sides and trying to remain upright while laughing herself silly to be of any help, and all Alphys could do was scratch her head and chuckle nervously.

"I may have told him some stories of your exploits," she confessed. Still stunned, Black finally managed to free his hand from Blue's turbine-like handshaking. Blue didn't seem to mind though, and commenced to bouncing around on his toes for a moment before stopping in front of Alphys.

"Alphys, you didn't tell me he was going to be on this case, too! I wasn't prepared! I don't have my notes or-" he glanced over at Black, "-I have so many questions-" and then back to the captain, before suddenly grabbing his head. "No! I should have washed my hair this morning!"

"Blue, you're a skeleton," Alphys reminded him, "you don't even have hair."

"I could if I summoned the ecto for it!" 

"The last time you did that, it came out looking like a blue mohawk would if you'd stuck your finger in an electrical outlet."

Undyne, almost squeaking from how hard she was laughing, gave up the fight against gravity and fell to her knees, her head planted firmly against the deck.

By this point, Black was very perturbed and more than a little mortified. As Blue alternated between trying to help his fallen friend back to her feet, Black yanked Alphys aside and pulled her down so he could speak to her. "Are you telling me that the mayor wanted me to work with that rookie?"

"Of course not, Black," Alphys told him.

Black breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was _my_ choice."

Black felt like an arrow of Complete and Total Despair had been shot through him.

"Also, he's not a rookie," she informed him. "Blue's been on the force ever since he graduated the academy. He might act young but he's been a detective for about three years now." 

Well, that explained the outfit. Surely, there had to be someone else, though. Black might not have been the oldest agent, but between his internship and the experience at his current branch, he had nearly nine years on the force. They had to have at least somebody in the department who had more detective experience than Blue.

'Someone who's a little calmer,' Black thought desperately.

"We have older detectives, but not necessarily better ones," Alphys added. "Don't let Blue's enthusiasm fool you. That guy is as sharp as they come, and strong, too. I've seen him pull off stuff that's left some of our senior officers chewing on their hats. He's also surprisingly resilient."

Black looked mournfully over at Blue, who collapsed in a heap beneath Undyne as she went dead weight. Then he glared at Alphys.

"'Strong', huh?"

She just clapped him on the back, nearly causing a slipped disc from the force of her friendly "pat". "Don't be such a wet blanket! Blue's just as good at his job as you are at yours. Besides, if you hang around him long enough, you just might learn something."

'Yeah, that I hate you,' was his unspoken thought. 

With an encouraging shove from Alphys, Black stumbled over and nearly fell on top of Undyne. Thankfully, he regained his footing just in time, and dragged the fish up from her sprawl on the deck. Blue sat up, looking woozy, and said, "Ugh, I thought I almost died. She was squeezing the air out of me."

"We're skeletons," Black said, "we don't have lungs."

Blue suddenly beamed. "Oh, right! So," he gazed up at Blue, excitement shining in his starry eyes, "are you here to help us with the case? Going to give Undyne some pointers?"

Black ignored the "As if!" that came from Undye and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He did, however, sucked in some air through his gritted teeth and let it out, praying he would still have what remained of his sanity at the conclusion of this case. He offered his hand.

"Actually, it looks like you're going to be my arresting officer for this case."

Blue gasped. "You mean we're going to be PARTNERS?!"

Everything in his instincts dictated that he should say no, that he should call Toriel up and tell her that she made a mistake. But, Alphys had never lied to him before. While she could be a bit of a show-off and over-the-top, she wouldn't exaggerate the truth. Not when it came to solving a case. And if she referred to Blue as her protegee, then he must have had some serious credentials backing that brilliant smile of his.

At least, that's what he hoped.

Repressing another sigh, he told Blue, "I guess- _hrrrrk!_ "

Black was really, REALLY thankful he had summoned his ecto body earlier, because the crushing hug he got from Blue would have most definitely broken a rib. Though, at the moment, he wasn't really sure if even his magical body could have protected him from the sheer brute force behind that affectionate gesture.

He glared his bewilderment at Alphys, who simply shrugged as if this were completely common behavior out of her trainee. Considering the crowd Alphys ran with, that was probably the case (much to Black's misfortune). The agent tried to pry the other skeleton loose, but the grip he had on him had locked his arms, allowing Black only enough movement to reach his utility belt. And, since he didn't think tazing his temporary partner would be the best idea, all he could do was shout at Blue over proper protocol and displays of unprofessionalism until he relinquished his hold.

Blue deposited Black back onto the ground (when had he lifted him into the air?) and apologized. He tried to straighten Black's coat and tie before the agent waved him off. Black patted himself over, making sure everything was in one piece before discovering his hat was missing. He looked around, only to find Blue holding it up, a sheepish albeit still beaming smile plastered to his face.

"Sorry about that, I am just really excited to work with you," he told Black as the Interpol detective snatched his hat back. He offered his hand again, but Black could only stare at it, wary of another of Blue's "handshakes". "I'm Detective Sans Underswap, Ebott City Police. Most people call me Blue." His eyelights got really big again. "I can't believe we have the same first name! And our family names are similar, too! Isn't that amazing?!"

Black harrumphed, adjusting his hat atop his head. "Riveting," he said. Despite the sarcasm dripping from his voice as thickly as congealed honey, his tone seemed to go right over Blue's head, as his response only made the police detective turn to Alphys and start babbling about Black's reciprocated eagerness to work with him. Alphys merely walked over and clapped a hand on Blue's shoulder, which only mildly decreased his bouncing in place.

"Save your energy for the crime scene, Blue," she told him.

Blue's face lit up like a Christmas tree, a slight tinge of a magic flush glimmering across his cheeks. "Oh! Right! Uh, so sorry, Captain." Alphys responded with a few more shoulder claps before heading off toward the gangplank. She threw up a hand as she walked off, Undyne staggering along (still softly chuckling) after her.

"I'm headed back to the station! Contact me if you need anything."

"I'm gonna gather up the rest of the response team myself," Undyne joined in. "Heard Daddy Thurston's on his way down here. Last thing we need is a disorderly crew."

And with that, Black's last hope for any sort of decent, orderly teamwork sauntered out of his reach. If he was a crying monster, he might have shed a tear over that one. Instead, he put on his sober work face, trying not to grimace as he turned back to the chipper little detective.

"So, Detective Underswap, was it?" 

"Oh, please, just call me Blue!"

Black tried not to let his frustration show. "I would rather keep at least a semblance of formality while on this case."

Blue's eyelights expanded into large, shimmering discs that reminded Black far too much of the puppy dogs eyes that...

Wait, was Blue actually pouting?! 

He was! An officer of the law - and an experienced detective, at that - was _pouting_ at him as if Black had just told him he could have his dessert before he ate all of his broccoli!

That was it. It was bad enough Black's professional reputation had taken a nose dive recently, but now, it seemed like his dignity would soon be joining it.

"But you call the Captain and Undyne by their first names," Blue whined.

"Sergeant Undyne and I have been on the same task force for years," Black informed him stiffly, "and Alphys has been my arresting officer for nearly the past five years that I have worked in this city. At this point, the two are entitled to a bit of familiarity within the context of some situations."

Blue's face brightened. "Then that just means we'll have to work together more often until you're comfortable with me, Black!"

"Detective Swapfell," he corrected Blue. Blue just grinned and apologized, but Black could sense that Blue's enthusiasm was likely to have as much of a vendetta against protocol as Undyne's roughshod ways.

Maybe it would have been better if he had stayed on the wire fraud case...

Taking a deep breath, he gestured out with one hand, his arm weighed down by what felt like a very fated motion. "Well, Detective Underswap? As your department was the first to respond, the scene is yours. Lead the way."

"Mweh heh heh!" Blue did a cheery salute before sauntering off across the deck, whistling a jaunty tune. 

As Black watched him go, he could only shake his head. The clock was ticking now, and it was a race against time to see which could win out first: recovering the missing man, or the formation of a migraine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue as a fanboy is my new jam. I didn't even know I needed this in my life until I wrote it. 
> 
> Also, I suppose this chapter came out a bit more informally than the last two, but trying to describe Blue's boundless energy didn't really lend itself well to the more drawn out scenes of the Noir genre. It was easier to convey in short, choppy bits between his constant actions. Considerign it was an introduction scene, I wasn't too concerned with it being too dialogue-heavy, but there's definitely going to be a bit more introspection on Black's part soon enough.
> 
> Hope you all are enjoying this! And thanks so much to those who have commented and are about to leave comments! Y'all make my day!


	4. CHAPTER FOUR: "Not So Open and Shut"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black discovers there is more missing than just a rich playboy and his unknown lady friend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a joke for you all!
> 
> "What do Amazon workers, the navy, and fangirls all have in common?"
> 
> ANSWER: "Their lives revolve around shipping!"   
> (I'd say "and handling", too, but we don't normally get into that until the Explicit works.)  
> *rimshot*

CHAPTER FOUR: "Not So Open and Shut"  
———————

As Black watched his temporary "partner" saunter across the deck, he prayed that Alphys was not exaggerating her protegee's policing prowess. If he had to put up with such hyperactivity bordering on unprofessionalism, he would, but only if it meant he got fast results. Time was of the essence in most crimes, especially in cases regarding missing persons. Black also knew that a powerful man like Reginald Thurston would soon bring down holy hell onto both agencies if his son wasn't hastily restored to hi. Patience was not often a trait seen in his type.

'Besides, the faster we close this case, the less he's going to make my head spin,' Black thought.

Well, there was no time like the present to test his newest teammate.

"I take it you've familiarized yourself with the case file?"

Blue nodded, still smiling. "Of course! The Great Detective Blue Underswap never goes into a case unprepared when at all possible!"

Black tossed him a sardonic look. "Really? So would you mind telling me what clues your department has recovered in relation to it?"

The officer just beamed. "Absolutely! You know how Prescott Thurston's a big boat guy?" Black sniffed. Claiming the champion sailor was a mere "boat guy" would have been like claiming the ocean was a wee bit damp. He did his best not to point that out, instead tilting his head in acknowledgement. "Well, the last few years, he's really focused on using sailboats. It's a well-known fact by most anyone who is into any form of ocean-based sports around here that Prescott enjoyed spending outs running two particular sailboats."

Ebott City's supposed finest threw his arms out suddenly, gesturing to the boat around him with a little spin.

"But the _Eurybia_ here was what he took to sea when he just wanted to relax. According to her design, she tops out at 67 knots, meaning there are few ships out there that can outpace her."

Black made a noise in his throat. "Sounds about as relaxing as a roller coaster." His comment made Blue laugh.

"I know, right?" he said in a way that made Black think he would have been right at home jetting across the water like a deranged dolphin. "According to the marina staff, Prescott had gotten the boat from his father last year as a gift to branch out into cruiser racing again. Though they also said that, since this was a new Thurston Inc. prototype, then it was likely meant to be cheap advertisement."

That theory did not surprise Black. The Thurston family, most especially their most recent patriarch, was infamous for turning absolutely everything into some way to gain more PR. A cynical thought passed through his mind about how Prescott probably became a thrill-seeking party boy to get attention since Daddy Thruston was too busy exploiting him at every turn. For a split second, Black felt a twinge of pity, having known many an adult that spiraled into various vices to fill such voids. After all, parental emotional neglect did not spare a household merely because it was above the poverty line.

Then he recalled the family he was dealing with and his empathy instantly died away.

He strode across the fake wooden planks, his hands linked behind his back, looking around at the vessel. If someone had simply attacked Prescott and his mysterious companion over the boat, they likely would not have recovered it. Or at least, it wouldn't have been abandoned at sea.

"Was there any damage to the cruiser?" Black asked, turning to Blue. "Any signs of violence or a struggle? Anything to show that they might have landed elsewhere, or perhaps one if not both of them fell overboard - inebriated or otherwise?"

Blue perked up. "Actually, according to a perp checklist downstairs, there should have been two life jackets! Both of them are missing. Also...well, hey, let me just show you!"

The other skeleton turned and bounded toward the stairs, turning around and walking backwards as he excitedly chattered to Black. 

"It's evaporated up here now, but early this morning, there was a LOT of water up here! I mean, a LOT 'a lot'! And..." Blue turned at the last possible moment to avoid an accidental trip down the stairs, and instead descended them with more of his boundless zest. 

Black gave a cursory perusal of the stairs and noticed that the polished wood of the circular staircase glimmered with streaks of wetness. Once he made his way down, he realized that part of the hardwood floor was saturated. He frowned as he filed away the strange clue. Once he saw Blue happily tapping his foot in a puddle, his frown deepened. 

"What are you doing?" he didn't bother to hide the exasperation in his voice. The last thing he needed right now is for his partner to be wasting time, playing in puddles.

"Testing the viscosity of this puddle, of course!"

Black dropped his head. "Of course," he repeated.

"I mean, I'm sure you can see now that you are down here," Blue cheerfully added, "but not all of this water is just water!"

'Yes, I'm sure it also has salt in it,' is what Black wanted to say. Thankfully, his cynicism died when he heard the rest of what Blue had to say.

"If you look closely," Blue said, gathering his suit jacket around him so it wouldn't dip into the puddle when he crouched down, "this water contains a strange film. See here?" He dipped his fingers into the water before bringing them back up into the light. "Take a look at that!"

Black's brow furrowed and he stepped off the staircase for a closer look. He bent down by Blue and examined the water. Sure enough, there were bits of light green sludge mixed in here and there, showing up far better on Blue's white bones than the deep orange-red of the hardwood floor.

"Algae?"

Blue grinned widely and jabbed the air with a finger. "BINGO! Mweh heh heh!"

Black looked around to see if there was an aquarium or a fish bowl of sorts overturned nearby, but there wasn't. Considering how chilly it was beginning to get that time of year, there shouldn't be much algae clinging to much of anything so near the shore, let alone out in the open waters. The terrain in the area nearby didn't really leave much area for it to grow. He tried to think of some places around that it might.

Algae needed two things to grow: a source of nutrients and heat. That's why it grew so close to the surface. Sunlight and warmth. He looked up at Blue. "Where was the _Eurybia_ found?"

"Well out in open water, out of gas," he told Black. "Far away from any ocean bloom. At least, during this time of year."

Black thought for a moment and then his features opened in realization.

"A factory or a-"

"-Sewer!" Blue chuckled and snapped his fingers, shooting a celebratory set of finger guns at Black. "You saw the same thing I did!"

That was right. The runoff from sewer pipes or the heated waters near some of the old industrial plants nearest the shore would have just enough warmth and polluted debris around to cause a buildup of such vibrant algae, even during the start of the slowly chilling weather.

The two detectives stood, and Blue drew out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers on. Black looked around at the mess. "So our wayward sailor and his unknown lady friend had an argument, upon which point they immediately headed toward an area nearest a sewer or factory. They must have been going fairly fast to get so much water in here."

That's when Blue shook his head.

"Nuh-uh. Guess again!"

Black raised a brow bone. "Excuse me?"

Blue's starry eyes grew wide and he started hopping slightly in place. "C'moooon, guess!"

Frowning deeply, Black said, "We don't have time to play twenty questions. Need I remind you, Detective Underswap, that we have a missing person?""

The police officer's face fell and he let out an apologetic chuckle. "Right, sorry, just I know it's your investigation, too, and I wanted to see if you deduced what I did." 

Black wasn't sure why he said what he did next. Maybe it was the fact that Blue reminded him so much of the rookie agents - which, honestly, didn't make much sense. Black wasn't the fondest of the rookies for the sheer fact that most of the little glory hounds came in enthusiastic, only to have their visions of the sort of flashy life that television presented international agents to have crumble in the presence of Black and his organization's daily routines. It wasn't nearly as fun spending hours on end trying to track down the VIN number of a stolen car that had hopped countries, only to realize that the contact you had been speaking to barely knew any of the languages you did, so they misunderstood a number and you had to run everything ALL OVER AGAIN. And that didn't include what happened out on the field. He was thankful most rookies that couldn't cut it just threw their arms up over the long communications chains rather than sticking around to see some of the more horrible stuff. Even the most bright-eyed cadets soon found their light subdued, a subtle, somber hush that came with the actual rigors of the job settling over them like a cold winter chill.

Maybe it was because somewhere deep down inside of him, he really wished most of the rookies he'd seen enter the field could keep the sort of enthusiasm he saw Blue had maintained. Maybe it was just an old habit from trying to make sure the rookies that showed promise wouldn't burn out too fast after experiencing one of those cruel realities of the world. Hell, it might have even been Toriel's influence rubbing off on him. Who knows?

All he knew was that he surprised himself as he dropped back into a similar tone he used with those cadets teetering on the brink of early resignation.

"I am not sure how you think these joint investigations are supposed to be handled, Detective," he said, much less harshly than before, "but just because you seem to think I have more experience in a larger arena doesn't mean I consider the case mine and mine alone."

He mentally suppressed a wince at the memory of Jerry and how that little snot tried to run things like he was the Angel's gift to all monsterkind. Instead, he tried to force a smile, but it only came out as a frustrated, comedic quirk of the corner of his mouth.

"If you've found something, let's get it out in the open. Alphys said you had an impressive dossier of your own, so I'd like to see those powers of deduction at work," he told Blue. Then a most mischievous thought popped into his mind, and a smirk stretched wide across his features. "I would be highly impressed if you were able to solve this case as quickly as your others."

Black knew he had said the magic words when Blue's dulled eyes suddenly lit up with all of the brilliance of a casino's exterior. 

"Mweh heh heh! I, the Great and Magnificent Detective Underswap, will show you just what I am capable of, Agent Black!"

"Agent _Swapfell_ ," Black muttered under his breath, but he just shook his head and chose to listen to whatever Blue looked like he was dying to get out.

"Alright! So, since there wasn't any bad weather reported in the last few nights, nor have the marina staff heard of any unusual wave activity nearby, my guess is that another boat was involved."

"Go on."

Blue stood and gestured around. "You see how far in the water reached? If Prescott had been doing crazy maneuvers, it still shouldn't have been enough to send the sludgier water down here because of the way the entrance is shielded from front-facing spray. In fact, if you look, it's as if the amount of water sloshed down here came from somebody who dragged it in."

Black looked around and recalled the huge hooded coat and long dress the aquatic monster wore. As she seemed to have a long tail, if she had fallen overboard and then came downstairs, there should have been some green algae marks from where her tail and dress dragged. But Prescott? Prescott had been wearing a heavy overcoat and long pants. If he'd fallen overboard and managed to climb back on, there was enough water there to indicate he'd shed most of it coming in.

The agent looked up as Blue pulled his phone from his pocket and showed Black a snapshot from earlier. He pointed at an outline made on the floor.

"Doesn't that look like what a human the size of Prescott would make?"

The mass of water had obviously lolled about and had been tracked through by the fishermen that had encountered it, but there was still enough there to make out where a human of similar size might have made upon falling. In fact, judging from some of the green splotches on the floor, Black could make out where an algae-streaked palm would have struck.

He gingerly stepped around Blue, examining the puddle. "The algae streaks toward the bow," he mimed the direction with his hand. "He must have fallen forward."

Blue nodded.

"When we got a hold of his cruiser this morning, we found the footsteps leading further into the cabin belonged to the fishing boat captain that came down to take a look. If anyone else was in here, they were either dry or didn't venture beyond this point."

Black then noticed a slightly crusty green tinge to the cushions of a bench built into a raised wooden platform near the watery outline. He glanced at Blue. "Did you see this?" The detective nodded as Black pulled out a small pouch of disposable gloves from a pocket inside of his coat and slipped them on.

"That's where it gets interesting," Blue told him. "Go ahead! Open it up!"

The seat cushions were really one long cushion that were attached to a board. When prised up, it revealed the board was actually fitted to mask hidden storage. Black's eyelights flared with interest when he saw the grey foam beneath neatly cut to securely fit firearms.

" _Now_ we're getting somewhere," Black murmured, his tone coming out somewhere between a croon and a pleased growl.

There were three slots: two for flare guns, and one for a long-barreled gun. One of the flare guns was missing, as was the weapon that intrigued Black the most.

"Have these been recovered?"

Blue shook his head. "Alphys got the report for an M870 shotgun registered in Prescott's name purchased around five years ago. We haven't had any hits on it yet, but we've got it pinged in the system. To all our reports, Prescott wasn't known to be very big into firearms of any sort and may have purchased the weapon solely for potential self-defense."

That was incredibly telling: the weathered sailor, alone with only a single companion, resorting to yanking out a weapon he never used.

"What all do we have that is missing?"

"Apart from Prescott? The two life jackets, the shotgun, a flare gun, and his companion. We've yet to have any matches on her description, but both Undyne and Alphys sent in screenshots from the tapes to see if they could find a match."

Black's features twisted in concern. He had gone into this case assuming that Prescott might have just fallen overboard during a drunken bender, at worst. Now, he had a rich playboy, an unknown monster, _and_ a weapon that had all gone missing.

Looks like the case wasn't going to be as open and shut as he initially thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had to look up a lot of stuff for this. The CIA agent monitoring my computer is now likely wondering what the heck Interpol, yacht cruisers, weapons used on boats, and algae bloom have to deal with one another. I must not disappoint them with the end result, so continue to comment away on what you think about this story! XD


	5. CHAPTER FIVE: "Reginald Thurston"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black meets the missing man's father.   
> It's not a pretty encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING TIME!
> 
> *sarcastic "Yah~!:* 
> 
> Thought you all were going to escape this, huh? Well, time for some hints of crime, blatant racism against monsters, and - well, Reginald Thurston is his OWN trigger warning in this chapter.

CHAPTER FIVE: "Reginald Thurston"  
————————

As Black pondered the implications of what may have happened to the missing man, something Blue said came back to him. "You said there was another boat involved?" Blue nodded. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, for starters," Blue began, "both occupants during the _Eurybia_ 's last ride have disappeared, and I presume they were both wearing the life jackets that were hung there." He pointed to a couple of hooks on the wall, below which were stickers on which were instructions on how to properly affix said life preservation equipment. "Also, recall all of that water I was talking about topside?"

Black nodded and Blue held up his phone again, swiping to reveal another photo.

"It was a bit foggy this morning, but you can still see how saturated part of the deck is here. See this area?" he outlined it with his finger. "That's where the water cut off. At least, most of it. There's still a bit of dried algae stain up there where you can see that someone climbed onto the cruiser and made their way over to the cabin. But the rest of the water? Just regular ocean water."

"I see," Black looked out through the windows ahead, "so Prescott and his companion left here and went to someplace close to land where algae grew. At some point, another boat comes close enough to accost them and send that water up onto the deck as it passes. Someone who knew where that firearm was - mostly likely Prescott, since it seems unlikely most people knew of its existence - fell overboard. They then climbed back on board, came downstairs, retrieved the weapon and returned upstairs. And then...Anything else?"

"Yeah! Oh," Blue made to speak but then his face fell once it seemed he realized something. "Heh heh...actually, that's about as far as I got."

Black hummed thoughtfully. "Which way did the _Eurybia_ head once she left port?"

Blue pointed starboard. "That way."

Careful to walk around the water and the few tiny numbered evidence placards, Black headed up to the front of the vessel, Blue following behind him. He glanced out the window in the direction where Blue had gestured. 

The marina where Black's case had taken him was mostly known for the wealthy elite in the city and was situated along what was considered one of the more so-called "cultured" boardwalks in Ebott City. However, far off in the direction of where Blue pointed, Black could vaguely see the shorefront skyscrapers disappear as a small finger of land jabbed outward, the nondescript squares and rectangles of storage facilities and warehouses congregating around some taller buildings erected there, and the smokestacks above some of the ancient brick factories still billowing out puffy white steam.

His brow ridges dipped into a deep "V" over his sockets as his eyelights waned. " _Longshore Wharf_ ," he said lowly.

Agitation rumbled in Black's non-existent throat. Of course, he had history with Longshore Wharf! All of the ICPO did! Memories of dragging himself down to there, getting lost as he tried to make his way through a myriad of streets past identical warehouses, only to have to endure hours of the foul-smelling mire nearby as Chilldrake prattled on and on about the latest batch of priceless relics recovered from a smuggling operation while their supposed "legal owners" (they never were) whined and complained in the background made his head throb. He'd dealt with more customs violations there than anyone should ever be subjected to.

Why, oh why, did it have to be Longshore Wharf?

Blue stepped up beside him. "Sounds like you have history with that place, huh, Detective Swapfell?"

"If by 'history' you mean watching fools try to smuggle in artifacts in through the same straw-stuffed crate routine and claiming infringement on their rights until we pull out King Tut's twelfth cousin-twice-removed, then yes. And before you ask, yes, the paperwork when dealing with their lawyers is brutal."

In a comforting gesture, Blue patted Black's shoulder and shook his head. Then he perked back up, hopping out in front of Black with a flourish.

"Well, I guess it's lucky that we're dealing with missing people and not missing artifacts, right? I mean, you might be able to explain how your great-great-great grandfather passed down a mummy he found as a strange family heirloom, but it's not like you can do that for people!"

Black felt a wave of cold wash over him and the magic around where his throat should be tighten.

" _...such a pretty little thing she is, yes?_ "

" _...the boss will want this one...The rest of them? Meh, let the boys have 'em...reward..._ "

" _...a worthless little...trash...nine siblings...the youngest...why would a monster care about...?_ "

" _...not him! NOT MY...!_ "

"-fell? Black? Black, can you hear me?"

Black could feel his eyelights flare back in as his sight returned. He saw something white pass over his vision before he realized it was Blue's hand. Letting out a steadying breath, he looked over at the other detective, who was staring at him with a puzzled look.

"My apologies," Black said, adjusting his tie to give himself something to do to mask the sudden trembling that had stricken his hands, "you were saying?"

"Are you feeling alright?" Blue asked. "I thought I had annoyed you too much with my questions there for a moment, but when you didn't react to the text, I started to wonder..."

Black smoothed down the wrinkles in his waterproof jacket and released another breath. "I'm fine, Detective. Merely spaced out for a moment, is all."

Blue made a thoughtful noise, his smile slowly returning. "I bet you were up half the night trying to solve a different crime, huh? I don't know about you, but I know Alphys starts winding down a few hours after her first cup of coffee. After we take care of this, why don't we go grab a cup for you? We're gonna have to head to the wharf anyway, so may as well fill up first! I know some really good hole-in-the-wall places! What do you say?"

Pushing his unwanted thoughts away, Black tried to steady himself before he spoke again. Perhaps he hadn't been as ready to go back on the force as he thought. After all, he couldn't just up and let Jerry have an extra reason to strip him of his position. He should have been prepared for something to slip around behind his mental defenses at some point.

Thankfully, Blue seemed to have written it off. Black would take it. He didn't need any nosy questions right now. Not when they had a case at stake.

(And not after, either.)

He realized his lack of response had been misconstrued as possible rejection, as Blue now was babbling a bit. "I mean, only if you want to! Or maybe tea is more your choice?"

Black needed to get things back on task.

"I-sure, Detective," he said. Before Blue lit up like a Gyftmas tree again, he asked, "You said something about a text?"

"Huh? Yeah! Undyne just texted me," he said, "Mr. Thurston's here."

"Prescott?"

Blue shook his head.

"No. Reginald."

Black didn't stop the harsh sigh that escaped him. "Well, come along, then. You might want to prepare yourself, Detective."

"It's fine, Detective Swapfell!" Blue said. "As unfortunate as it is, I've had to deliver this kind of news to people before."

Black looked at his partner. "But have you ever had to do it to one of the city's elite?"

Blue shook his head.

For the first time since he met Blue, Black truly - and he did mean _truly_ \- felt sorry for him. With a sigh, he clapped his hand onto the other skeleton's shoulder.

"Then I would like to say now that I am truly sorry for you."

When in front of the camera, Reginald Thurston cut a dashing and dignified character, a man whose business accomplishments (regardless of how controversial some of them were) were all focused upon the sea and the bettering of the lives of those whose needs revolved around that all-encompassing body of water.

With his son missing and no idea as to his whereabouts, however? The man was like Njord reborn.

Indeed, upon seeing the man in person, Black likened him to a modern-day version of the Norse humans' god of the sea and wealth. The Thurston patriarch was tall, standing a massive six feet and five inches. His broad shoulders and muscled arms were hardly downplayed by the pitch black suit he wore, the matching tie drawing attention to the barrel chest of a man who had spent most of his fifty-five years around the ocean. With huge, veiny fists clenched and shaking and his voice booming like the slap of a whale's tail upon the surface of the water, he looked every bit like he was about to strike down the combined ECPD-ICPO taskforce with divine wrath.

Knowing a human of that much power? He probably felt used to lording over man and monster alike like some false god.

He was also there with another human that Black knew very well, but sincerely wished he didn't.

A portly man whose sandy gray hair had long since run away from his forehead tried to reason with the irate father. "Reginald, control yourself! They're doing all they can!"

"You expect me to believe this bunch of-"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the other man grabbing hold of his wrist and jerking him down to face him. "Reginald! Enough!"

The man's voice lowered, but that only caused his voice to deepen to the tone of rumbling thunder. "I helped put you into office, you bastard, and I am the only reason your brother didn't-"

Thurston's words trailed off as his mediator locked eyes with Black. Black stiffened involuntarily. He had hoped that was one face he wouldn't be seeing any time soon. However - just like dealing with Jerry first thing in the morning, his too-hyper partner, and another trip to that stinking _Longshore Wharf_ \- it looked as though fate had yet another unfortunate surprise in store for him.

'And here I thought trouble was only supposed to come in threes,' he thought, squaring himself up.

He inclined his head toward the portly man. "Mayor Jones."

The mayor's face was unreadable for a second, but then devolved into a decisive nod. Black swore he saw the man suck in his lips in for the briefest moment, pressing them into a thin line. His somber expression was a mixture of emotions, and Black refused to read into them more than was entirely necessary.

"Detective Swapfell," the mayor said, his tone firm and even. He looked to the elder Thurston and nodded toward Black. "Reginald, this was the agent I was telling you about." He motioned with his hand and the business tycoon whirled around, two stormy blue eyes locking onto the skeleton.

If Black didn't know any better, he would say his own sockets were less hollow, and he didn't even have organs.

Reginald Thurston drew himself up to his full height and looked down at the agent. Black merely locked eyes with him, trying to will away the churning in his stomach at all he knew about this man. Such dead, cold eyes looked more at home on one of the killers his buddy Alphys hauled away on a weekly basis, and were far too disturbing to think about when situated on the face of someone who held the livelihoods of thousands of people in his hands.

The man looked between Black and Blue. "There are two of them," he noted.

"Detective Swapfell of the ICPO and Detective Underswap of ECPD," Mayor Jones said. 

Black expected Blue to bound forward and stick out his hand, grinning the same beaming grin he had when they had been introduced, but surprisingly, Blue held back. He did offer his hand, but only with the briefest of professional smiles. Reginald Thurston glanced at it before returning his focus to Black's face. His anger seemed to abate somewhat, replaced by a curious look that warred between both disgust and intrigue, before turning back to Mayor Jones.

"Tim," he said, far calmer than before, though it was clear from his eyes and his trembling fists that he was absolutely incensed, "care to tell me why you've put a couple of monsters on my boy's case?"

And here it was: Reginald Thurston's legendary racism, in all of its wondrous glory!

The man absolutely despised monsters. Though, like many of his ilk, he was usually careful about revealing it. At least, in the public eye. Certainly, he touted the whole "equal opportunity" shtick as most other companies that didn't want to get sued into the ground did. However, you would be hard pressed to find a monster in any branch of his company with a position higher than middle management. Though much of the old slogans regarding his products had changed over the years, he specifically catered to humans. Not because a market was there to exploit, because there were plenty of other companies whose advertisements were aimed more toward one race of beings than the other. If you put two small competitors of his together, with one being human-owned and operated while the other employed solely monsters, Thurston would run them both out of business, true, but the monster's business would be the one taken down first. Every. Single. Time.

And forget having any personal staff that weren't human. If there was a monster that sat foot inside Reginald Thurston's mansion, it couldn't have happened during Black's lifetime, that was for damn sure.

However, Thurston's callous remark seemed to bring out the fire in Ebott City's mayor.

"Dammit, Reginald, those two are two of the finest detectives of their departments! I told you I would see to it that you had the best men on your case, and by thunder, man, I did my part!"

"You said 'men', Timothy," Reginald sneered, "I don't see anything but a couple of bags of bones."

Blue continued to remain unfazed, his smile never wavering. Black wondered if he was used to being called derogatory terms by people he'd faced on the beat, or if he was trying to give Black that semblance of professionalism that Black had requested. Though, if it turned out that Alphys had run through flashcards with him on the way to the crime scene, and each card had "DO NOT TICK OFF THE RICH GUY" emblazoned on them, he wouldn't be surprised.

The mayor gritted his teeth. "Look, do you want your son found or not? Because these two are the best, and maybe only chance you have at getting him back. Do you understand me?"

Reginald shrugged his wrist out of the man's grip. "I'll remember this come election time," he warned. Black had to force himself not to raise an eyebrow the moment Thurston turned around as he watched the mayor roll his eyes. Thurston looked back down at Black. "Have you at least figured out where my son may have gone?"

"We're looking into it, Sir," Black said. He unzipped his jacket a bit and withdrew a small notebook and stubby pencil from his chest pocket. "Mr. Thurston, do you have any idea who might have taken your son? Did he have any enemies?"

"You trying to insinuate something, Detective?" Thurston rumbled. 

Black reacted by flipping open the cover of the notebook. 

"Just routine questions, Sir," he said. "Now, again, did your son have any enemies?"

Thurston snorted angrily. "Who doesn't? In this world, a man can't get by without stepping on a few toes."

'You don't step on toes,' Black thought, 'you grind them into the dirt.'

"Anyone specific?"

Thurston threw his hands up with a huff. "He's a champion sailor! He pisses off people left and right every time he wins a race. If it's not the other contestants that are angry, it's their fanbases. He's had as many scathing articles written about him across the globe as ones praising him. It's all part of being a professional athlete!"

"Anyone you know that stands out?" Black continued. 

Reginald ran a hand through his dusky blond hair and looked off to the side, thinking. He shook his head, his anger lessening only barely to allow a hint of vulnerability to bleed through as his voice cracked. "No, no one...He was a _good boy_. The best boy! The best man a father could ever hope for his son to turn out to be!"

Black scribbled down some notes as Thurston went into a schpeel about Prescott's volunteer work and all of the races he had run solely for charitable purposes (a big reason behind why many media outlets had praised him so highly).

"And what about your enemies, Mr. Thurston?"

Reginald's tone grew cold. "Excuse me?"

Black looked up at him, unflinching under a stare that could cut glass. "You're a powerful, wealthy man, Sir. People in high places always have someone looking up and wishing they were there. Do you have a former business partner, an estranged ex, even - anyone that might have put out a hit on your son?"

Thurston's expression flickered between aghast and enraged. "Just what are you saying, Detective?" Suddenly, the man grabbed Black by the shoulders. Black's eyelights flared up, his magic building around him as Reginald Thurston's huge hands clenched painfully at his bones through the fabric of his clothes. "You know something, don't you? Where is my boy, Monster? Where is my son?!"

Instantly, Black felt the _ping!_ of his SOUL as he entered an encounter. As he felt the squeeze of magic around his soul, he glanced down to see a brilliant blue glow flare up beneath his uniform top. At the same time he was yanked back, Thurston was dragged the other way - first by the mayor, who had wrapped his thick arms in a bear hug around Thurston's midsection, and then by two police officers and Undyne, who proceeded to restrain his arms. 

As the magic released Black and he stumbled to regain his footing, he saw Blue dart in front of him, his arms thrown out, shielding Black from potential danger.

"Reginald Jefferson Thurston!" Jones shouted. "What the hell is the matter with you?! Are you trying to get yourself arrested?"

Wild-eyed, Thurston struggled against his subduers, managing to almost break free from the grip of the two police officers. Undyne, however, was one of the strongest members of Interpol and probably of monsterkind, in general. There wasn't any way Thurston was escaping her grip. 

"Prescott...!"

The desperation in his voice was clear. Black saw the mayor try to yank him back.

"C'mon, Reginald, don't be this way. They're going to find him. Please, just calm down."

Slowly, the irate man stopped tensing up, his panting, almost snorting breaths tapering off into more manageable breathing. With a word from the mayor, Undyne and the officers relaxed their hold until Reginald was standing unrestrained. He straightened up, popping his shoulder blades in the process, and straightened his suit jacket. Then, with one last look flickering between Blue and Black, he turned and looked down at the mayor.

"They had better bring my boy home in one piece," he told Jones, "and tell them to be quick about it."

And with that, the man stomped off, leaving the area nearly silent save for the angry clatter of oxford shoes against the wooden planks of the dock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to save this for tomorrow, but once I started typing it, I couldn't stop.   
> Thoughts on Reginald Thurston and Mayor Jones? Theories about anything that is going on?  
> Comment away and make my day!


	6. CHAPTER SIX: "Timothy Jones:  Mayor, Godfather, Friend"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since talking to the missing man's father was a lost cause, Black and Blue turn their attention to his godfather, who enlightens them as to why Prescott may have been acting so strangely in the months leading up to his disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did most of this instead of things I should have been doing this morning. Oh, well! Enjoy!

CHAPTER SIX: "Timothy Jones: Mayor, Godfather, Friend"  
————————

Undyne was the first to speak.

"What are you twerps all doing? The city doesn't pay ya' to just stand around! Let's find some clues!" she clapped her hands together several times to snap everyone out of their daze. "My team, get your butts in gear! We have a case to solve!"

She stood, hands on her hips, as the various officers and agents began scurrying around. The mayor withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and began dabbing it at his balding brow.

Blue looked over his shoulder. "You alright, Bl- I mean, Detective Swapfell?" Black nodded and Blue's normal beaming smile began to return. "I'm glad! That got a little intense!"

The agent quickly realized the same glow in his chest matched the starry eyes looking at him. He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. It seemed Blue's abundant energy was good for something, after all. 

"Nice save there, Underswap," he said. Blue grinned.

"Mweh heh heh! As if the Great Detective Underswap would allow his partner to come to any harm!"

Black shook his head, not stopping his widening smirk. Instead, he moved his pencil and notebook to the same hand and used the free hand to give Blue a grateful pat on the shoulder, which only served to widen Blue's cheery grin. He looked back up as he heard Undyne's boots tromping across the dock toward them.

"You alright, Black?" she asked. 

"I'm fine," he said. Undyne frowned, growling under her breath.

"Thurston's an asshole. A rich asshole with a good lawyer, but an asshole nevertheless. Still, he attacked one of my agents-"

" _Almost_ attacked, Undyne," Black corrected her. As he tucked his notebook and pencil safely away, he sighed. "As much as I despise his sort, I've seen far worse displays regarding people who have received bad news."

Undyne huffed and crossed her arms. "Yeah, but you didn't tell him anything bad."

"No news isn't necessarily good news," Black reminded her. She had to concede to that.

"Ngah! As much as I hate to admit it, you're right. Guy might be a total racist douchebag, but he's still a father with a missing child."

"And once a father, always a father."

If one were to look up the definition of "uh-oh", they would see a picture of Undyne's expression as she remembered that the mayor was standing behind her. As he stepped up to her side, she rubbed her neck and looked away. 

"Sorry, Mayor, but he kinda is," she said. Black repressed a sigh and was suddenly grateful that Blue hadn't been under Undyne's tutelage.

"I know."

Black...hadn't expected that. Most of the time, the political sorts he knew either defended their more influential backers to the utmost - at least until something bad happened, and then they threw them under the bus with all of the force of someone who had just caught a grenade. Mayor Jones, however, just sounded resigned, as if he expected this behavior and was powerless to do anything about it. Black wanted to call him out on it but, given their history? Not the best course of action.

Instead, he straightened and watched the mayor with keen eyes, taking in each and every subtle movement. He looked at Black with an expression of...pity?

"Detective Swapfell," Jones said, inclining his head, "I-"

He looked at Blue, who was still T-posing in front of the agent. Black tapped him on the shoulder. "You can put your arms down now, Underswap."

As if he had only just realized he was still in a defensive pose in front of the mayor (and, knowing what Black had already seen out of Blue, it was quite possible), Blue snapped back to reality and quickly stepped to the side with Undyne. The mayor nodded to Black before turning his attention to Blue and shaking his hand. Thankfully, Blue returned it with only a few pumps that, while still conveying only a slightly subdued version of his usual energy, wasn't nearly as enthusiastically dislocating as when he had met Black. The mayor smiled warmly, the crow's feet around his eyes crinkling with genuine pleasure as he capped his other hand over Blue's, laughing as he returned the fervor.

"The Commissioner told me good things about you, Detective Underswap," Jones said. "I'm pleased to see that the papers captured your image so well."

"If by that you mean he's got more energy that a kid with a sugar rush, then you're right," Undyne added, clapping a hand on Black's shoulder. She looked down at him with one eyebrow raised, questioning if he really was okay, not looking away until Black gave her a a subtle nod and a quirk of a smile.

Blue finally released the mayor's hand and gave him a complimentary nod. "The media has covered quite a few of your exploits, Detective Underswap. I hope you can get results on Prescott's case as quickly as the others."

"I'm just one of many wearing the uniform," Blue told him humbly, "and I hope so, too."

The mayor nodded. "I want to apologize for Reginald. Not...not just as mayor, but as somebody who..." Black saw the man clench his fist and his jaw tighten as if repressing some unspoken thought. The mayor glanced back in the direction where Thurston had gone for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Detectives. That sort of behavior is intolerable."

"Then why do you put up with him?" Undyne asked.

Black had to repress a smirk. Leave it to ol' FishFace to call someone out on their bull.

The mayor just shook his head. "I don't condone what he believes, and I am grateful he doesn't voice such opinions very often. The problem is that the Thurston family is linked to so much commerce in this city that I have to put up with him to some extent. Even if I didn't, well..." 

Jones tugged at his tie, adjusting it as he swallowed hard, wrinkles creasing on his forehead under emotional strain.

"Off the record? He's an asshole, but an asshole I grew up with. He wasn't always this way. Certainly, his father had his views, but his mother? You would think after the old man died he'd have gotten better under her influence. Maybe he would have, if she hadn't..." He sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "That thrice-damned uncle of his, I feel, had a hand in the way he turned out."

Black didn't know the details, but he did know the old patriarch had died when Thurston was relatively young, and his mother - a former beauty queen and heiress to a chain of sweet shops - had passed tragically not long after. "Broken heart", the media said, as if the tycoon and his trophy wife had a love story written in the very stars rather than being a classic case of rich person meets rich person and they marry so they can continue to bask in the lifestyle to which they had always been accustomed. The only difference was that they kept whatever marriage troubles they had locked up tight from the public view and neither of them had dwindled away their collective fortunes in a hedonistic orgy of booze, drugs, and gambling as so many others had.

As for the uncle? Black had heard rumors about the man, but all he could recall was that he had died in some sort of accident at sea. Reginald liked to bring up the story whenever he introduced some sort of supposedly life-changing safety feature to one of his new watercraft.

Regardless, Black believed that, be they man or monster, most anyone could overcome their old ways is they put in enough effort. Just because his father or uncle might have led him down the path of a racist asshole didn't mean Reginald had to take up the baton when they passed it off.

"Besides, this case isn't about Reginald," the mayor told them, "it's about Prescott."

Black, deciding that at least one human in the area was lucid enough to speak with, flipped his notebook back open. "Would you mind answering a few questions for us then, Mr. Jones?"

Mayor Jones, realizing that Black was speaking to him, smiled sadly. "If I can help in any way that brings that boy home safe, certainly. Ask what you will."

Black nodded and began. "What is your connection to the missing person?"

"Godfather. I've known Prescott since the day he was born. I was there in Barcelona when Cat went into labor. Thickest head of hair you ever saw on a child in your life!" he recalled with a chuckle. "He's almost the same age as my oldest. Maggie and I hosted his family often until Cat passed, and even after that, Prescott was still a constant playmate to my children. He's practically a member of my family! My wife still jokes she had another baby and forgot about it."

There was a fondness to the portly man's eyes as he spoke of the boy. Black made a note of it.

"So you would say your wife and children are very close to him?"

"Oh, heavens, yes! Though," the mayor frowned, "I must say I've been a bit concerned for a while."

"How so?"

"Well," Jones said, "around his birthday earlier this year, he started acting a little...strange."

"'Strange', Sir?" Blue piped in. Black saw that he, too, had a small notebook out. Jones nodded.

"He started to be a bit more withdrawn. Later, I wondered if it had to do with..."

He glanced at Black. A pointed, knowing look, accompanied by another swallow and a terse clearing of his throat. Black felt his magic bubble up in him as bile would a human, but it settled back down quickly enough as the mayor turned back to Blue.

"Well, whatever it was, it wasn't related to anything going on with our family. No squabbles with any of my children or us. My eldest - Timothy Junior, we call him 'Tad' so things don't get confusing at home - has always been his bosom companion. We thought if anyone would know, he would, but Tad was never able to get a word out of him."

"Then, a couple of months after, Prescott seemed to snap out of it. Sort of. He seemed a lot happier, almost giddy even! I'd catch him spacing off with the goofiest grin on his face. I thought he'd met a girl finally." Before Black could comment, the mayor held up a finger. "Now, before you ask, yes, my godson has been a bit of a heartbreaker, but he's never been serious about anyone. I hadn't seen a look on his face like that since he had a crush on his teacher back in first grade."

"The problem was when I asked about it, he shut down. Looked panicked even. After that, I still saw him have his little moments, but he was a lot cagier and stopped coming around so often. He also stopped asking us to come over. I still went to have dinners with Prescott and his father, but he said he was more comfortable if Tad and Juju-" he glanced over at Black, "-that's my Juniper, my youngest. She's eight-" he added before turning back to Blue, "stayed at home. I thought it had to do with...well, I thought maybe he wanted to open up about whomever he was seeing and just wanted to have some moral support there when he did. And I do know he was seeing someone. There was no denying that lovestruck look on his face."

Blue cocked his head. "Why do you suppose Prescott might have been afraid to talk about who he was dating?"

The mayor made a face and nodded back in the direction of where Thurston marched. "Isn't is obvious?"

Black raised a brow bone. "You think Prescott was involved with a monster?" He exchanged looks with Blue. If the lady monster that Prescott had last been seen with turned out to be his love interest, then that might certainly provide a lead.

The mayor nodded, gesturing subtly for the skeleton to keep it down. "It's one of the few things that makes any sense. Reginald has never had any problems with anyone his son has been involved with before. His own second wife had been an adult film star, and there were rumors about Cat. If Reginald didn't like her, he would have just thrown money at her until she went away. Prescott never kept his dates a secret from his father."

"How can you be so sure it was a monster? Is it possible he was worried about telling his father because he was attracted to a man?"

A sarcastic laugh escaped the man. "I've known Prescott all his life, and I can assure you, his tastes fell squarely on the fairer sex," Jones said. "Besides, Reginald played both sides of the field in his youth. He may be a racist bastard, but he's not a homophobic one."

'And Hitler liked cake, and Rasputin could charm animals,' Black thought grimly. Just because a man had one good trait didn't excuse the rest. But, that was beside the point...

Blue gnawed on his pencil eraser for a moment, then seemed to have an idea. "How do you suppose Reginald would have reacted to his son having a monster girlfriend?"

A harsh breath rushed out of the mayor as his eyes grew wide. "Oh, it would not have been pretty."

Black's brow ridges knitted. "'Not pretty'? What do you mean, Sir?"

The mayor made dismissive waves with his hands. "Not like that! Reginald can be an ass, and I won't be the first to admit he could have spent a little more time with the boy, but he'd never do anything to harm him. Prescott is his only child! His son and heir! He would certainly throw one hell of a fit and if enough money did not make the problem go away, he would snip and snark at them every following Thanksgiving dinner. He might even pretend a monster who joined his family didn't exist. He did that after my Rowan brought home his fiance. His own godfather now! Pretending he didn't exist all because his man had _fur_! Bugsly might be one of the best orthopedic surgeons on the East Coast, but the rabbit ears made him and Rowan both invisible the last time we all had a meal together."

Jones' voice lowered to a tired exasperation. "Look, I know he made a horrible first appearance, but I know Reginald's beating himself up inside. I've asked Reginald before if he knew if Prescott was dating anybody, and it was obvious he had no idea. The last time we all had dinner together, he actually brought up a few available people around his age Prescott turned them down in front of him, saying he wanted to knuckle down on his sailing for the rest of the year before he accepted a position working under his father."

"When was the last time you saw Prescott?" Black asked.

With a forlorn look, the mayor said, "Two weeks ago, at that dinner. My son Tad and he have spoken since, though. If it will help, I'll be happy to give you his information. He should be back in town in a few days. He's flying back home from his post-graduation sabbatical. I know he'd do anything to bring Prescott home."

Black accepted and he and Blue took down the information for the mayor's eldest son. Jones then asked for Blue's contact information, promising that if they were unable to get a hold of Tad the moment he sat foot back in the country, the mayor would call them himself. While they were doing that, Undyne excused herself, saying she wanted to go make sure that Thurston wasn't hassling the marina staff again. Once she was gone and a few final questions were asked, Black put away his notebook while Blue stepped to the side to give Tad Jones a call.

That was when Black realized that he was practically alone with the mayor.

He looked over to Blue who was a couple of yards away, his eyelights flicking over toward him now and then. Then he turned back to the mayor and gave him a nod.

"Mr. Mayor."

To his surprise, the mayor extended his hand to him. "I meant what I said, Detective Swapfell. If anyone can find that boy, I know you two can."

Trying not to show his hesitation, Black took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. The mayor held both it and his steady gaze for a moment longer, and spoke lowly.

"You're a good man, Black. A good monster and...thank you. I know you probably don't believe me when I say this, but what you did was very...human. And despite all of the fallout, trust me when I say stronger men than you would have done far worse." Black could feel his wrist shake as the mayor's hand began to tremble, and he could feel the grip slightly increase as the sticky dampness of sweat began to form on the fleshy palm. 

About that time, Blue finished the call and bounced back over. He stopped short, his words dying on his lips when he noticed the strange tension that had settled over Black and the human.

"Uh, you two alright?" he asked, one brow ridge raised in confusion.

Black, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and the flash of swiftly dulling memories, smiled hollowly, his eyelights turning back to the mayor. "Yeah. Yeah, we're good."

"You bring that boy back to us, Detective," the mayor told him, "I'm counting on you two."

With that, the mayor released Black's hand and excused himself. Blue watched him leave for a minute before turning back to Black, his questioning eyelights drawing an outline over Black's form as if inspecting him for cracks. 

"Are you SURE you're okay?"

Black, choking down the emotion rising up inside of him, nodded. 

"Yeah. Let's get out of here, Detective."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue got a shoulder pat from his hero. He can die happy now.  
> He WON'T because I need him for this story, but still!
> 
> I once heard a saying that went something like this: "Most any man can father a child, but it takes a real man to be a Dad."  
> You can say the same thing of women and, in fact, I got the idea for Mayor Jones from a couple of elderly folks I knew as a kid. You know, the sort that start out with giving one of their grandchildren's friends a piece of candy and then, they wake up one day and suddenly, they've become Surrogate Grandparent to half the neighborhood? Yeah.
> 
> Now, what's his history with Black? You're just going to have to wait and see.
> 
> Theories in the meantime are welcome! Keep those comments coming!


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN: "Longshore Wharf"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black and Blue follow their first lead to Longshore Wharf.

CHAPTER SEVEN: "Longshore Wharf"  
————————

Getting any information out of any of the marina staff was pretty much impossible with Reginald Thurston still ranting and raving on the scene. Advising the man he would be removed from the marina until the investigation was through had only made him more irate, bellowing that if anyone knew of anything out of the ordinary around there, it would be he himself. Mayor Jones, at least, had managed to get the man confined to the marina's office, where he replayed the footage showing Prescott's last known appearance over and over again, scrutinizing the video with a look of utter virulence.

It quickly became apparent to Black that the marina staff were terrified of so much as breathing in the wrong direction in front of Thurston, so Black reluctantly left that task to the rest of the taskforce after gleaning a still from the video and putting a short, grainy recording from the tapes onto his cell phone.

There were a handful of places in Ebott City that Black hated, and few he despised more than Longshore Wharf. Once a simple shipping port, it had been purchased for government use around eighty years prior. Then, a couple of decades ago, the navy decided they preferred the use of another port some miles up the way, and the docks were sold back to the public once again. However, Black knew they would already have some trouble finding out which way their missing people went because of the lack of cameras installed in the area. It was a holdover from the military days, a stipulation put into the contracts of its most recent civilian owners that utter privacy was to be had in the case of the navy ever needed to temporarily house a shipment there.

Certainly, no place in the city smelled nearly so foul. There were sewers that drained out from the factories and businesses nearby. Since the factories still released thermal pollution into the surrounding waters, certain species of algae bloom had cropped up over time. The combination of the sullied sea water and the stench produced by the steam of pressure-treated lumber and shoe rubber billowing out from the smokestacks nearby wrecked utter havoc on the senses of anyone not used to it.

In addition, the very sight of anyone in an Interpol uniform was enough to send up a chorus of groans and put dock workers on their guard. Black didn't like investigating customs violations any more than the longshoremen liked having their work interrupted for a barrage of interrogations, but it still didn't make his presence any more welcome.

As he stepped out of the squad car, he steeled himself, tugging out the little tube of peppermint oil that was every agent's go-to for surviving prolonged exposure to the worst smells of the job. He dabbed a bit beneath his nasal cavity and then offered the tube to Blue. Blue, already smelling the strong stench of the wharf's trademark waters, gratefully accepted a gentle dab of the potent scent.

'Longshore Wharf,' Black mentally cursed its name. 'Why did it have to be Longshore Wharf? Why couldn't it have been a gourmet restaurant or one of the numerous parks around Ebott?'

As he stowed away the tube, he watched Blue boldly saunter off toward the docks of the closest warehouse, making Black have to hurry to catch up with him. As he hurried to the end of the alley that Blue had cut through, he saw the other skeleton hop up and down, waving his arms. A loud whoop rang out from him like a pistol shot.

As Black approached, he noticed the workers closest to the other side of the road look over and catch sight of Blue. 

He expected a less than lackluster greeting.

What he received was the excited shouting of more than twenty workers, all of them throwing up their hands and clapping their coworkers on the shoulders or backs in order to point out who was there. Blue walked across the street, arms outstretched, as he called out to them.

"¡MIS AMIGOS!"

Several of the workers, mostly a crew of humans, clasped hands with Blue once he reached them. One of them called up to a man who was working on something in the cab of a great green crane, and the man looked down to see what was going on. As soon as he did, Blue threw up a hand toward him and waved him down. The man grinned and swiftly shimmied down the side with the nimbleness of a spider monkey, leaping off the base and throwing open his arms, a bright smile on his face.

"¡Azul! ¿Qué onda?" 

__Immediately, Blue was scooped up into a bear hug and lifted straight off the ground. He returned the hug fiercely, patting the man on the back, his head thrown back in a riotous laugh. As he was deposited onto the ground, Blue lightly punched him on the arm. "Manuel, it is so good to see you! How are the kids? Olivia? And how is Abuelita?"_ _

__The foreman - Manuel - ran through a quick series of answers in slightly accented English before asking what Blue was doing there. Blue mentioned he was working on a case and then looked around, finally spotting Black. Excitedly, he waved Black over._ _

__"Manuel, look who they have me partnered with! Look, look!"_ _

__Black knew Manuel recognized him the moment all of the mirth drained from his face. Like dominoes, so, too, did the jovial expressions of every man, woman and monster standing around Blue. Manuel groaned and gave Blue a very disappointed look._ _

__"Azul, why are you working with these bozos?" Manuel looked up at Black. "All we're unloading is fruit! It's all been checked in and the shipper's one of the most reliable ones we have! We don't have any more mummies!"_ _

__Blue gave Manuel a look. "'Mummies'?"_ _

__Black stepped around the orange barrels marking off the active work area and nodded. "Mr. Dominguez, I can assure you that we are not here for your cargo today. That is," he said as he fished out his phone, "unless your cargo happens to contain this individual?"_ _

__Puzzled by the lack of warrants or seizure papers thrust in his face, Manuel looked down at the screenshot of the monster that Black had brought up. "She, along with her companion, disappeared last night around eleven o'clock." He gave a brief description of Prescott Thurston, as revealing the identity of a common public figure might cause tongues to wag and a case to be completely derailed (by gossipers at best and international media outlets at the worst). Manuel studied the image for a moment and then shook his head._ _

__"Sorry, Detective, I cannot help you. As you know, we do not have cameras," he said, gesturing around them. "What did they do?"_ _

__"They are persons of interest in a current case of ours," Black told him. After all, such a high-profile case needed to be handled with the utmost discretion-_ _

__"The kid went missing, and we're trying to find him and whoever he was with."_ _

__Black scowled at Blue. Why didn't he just shout to the entire dock that the son of one of the richest men in the country had disappeared while he was at it?!_ _

__"You got their names, _ese,_?"_ _

__Black's eyelights winked out._ _

__'I really should think before I think...!'_ _

__Blue shrugged. "Don't know her. That's what we're hoping to find out."_ _

__Black barely succeeded in not letting out the breath he had been holding in an obvious sigh of relief. Surprisingly, Manuel didn't make any remarks about Blue clearly glossing over knowing the name of the other missing person. He just nodded and looked back down at the screen. After shaking his head again, he gestured for the other workers to come and take a look. He asked them in English if they had seen the people, answering the Spanish of one with Blue's unnecessary (at least, in Black's opinion) tidbit. However, including the fact that someone had a family looking for them peaked the curiosity of the others, and a few looked back to the screen with sympathy. Black held out the phone for each of them to take a good look._ _

__Unfortunately, none of them had any idea who the monster was, nor had they seen anyone matching that description or wearing the outfit in which Prescott was last seen._ _

__"Is there anyone who might have been working Wednesday night between eleven and Thursday morning at four that might have seen them?" Black asked. "Them or any suspicious activity on the water? The two were last seen heading this way in a cruiser."_ _

__Manuel's face scrunched up and he turned to his group, asking what a cruiser was. Blue prattled off a few words and Manuel seemed to understand. A few of the workers now looked annoyed, probably having guessed that some trust fund baby had gone for a joyride and not come home yet. Those that did quickly lost interest int he conversation and went back to work. However, a few people still stuck around, with looks of intrigue or concern mapped onto their faces._ _

__The foreman turned back to Black. "No, we had no shipments that night, so none of my crew would been here. Well, except for Danilo. He's the security guard that was working. He got at here at ten Wednesday evening and left at six the next morning."_ _

__Blue's eyes lit up. "You mean Danilo's working here? I haven't seen him in ages! How has he been?"_ _

__Manuel smiled. "He is doing better. The structure has been good for him since he got out of the navy, and he gets to see Azalea and the baby so much more often than he ever did at the factory."_ _

__Black cleared his throat. "Blue? We have a job to do."_ _

__Blue smacked his forehead. "Oh, right!" Manuel shot Black an annoyed look, but Black just shrugged it off. If Blue wanted to catch up with old friends, he would have to do it on his own time._ _

__Just as Blue was questioning Manuel on whether he had heard Danilo mention anything, Black felt a presence eerily close to him. He turned and saw a cat monster, his fur as orange as his longshoreman's coat, looking over his shoulder, craning to try to inspect the screen. When he noticed Black had spotted him, he stepped back. Manuel called out to him._ _

__"Hey, Burgerpants! What are you doing over here? You're supposed to be working on Crane #5. And where is your helmet?"_ _

__The cat took a step back and raised his hands, a metal toolbox in one and a wrench in the other. "I was just going over there, Boss. Had to get my tools."_ _

__"While you're here," Black asked, raising the phone up so the cat monster could see, "have you seen anyone that looks like this or her companion?"_ _

__'Burgerpants' didn't bother to look again, instead taking few more steps back and shaking his head. "Nah, I've not seen anybody," he said. "You said Danilo was working Wednesday night, Boss?" Manuel nodded. "I'd be really surprised if he saw anything, though. If that fog we had the past few mornings was here all that night, he probably couldn't have seen more than the lighthouse beacon."_ _

__Manuel agreed, bobbing his head before shooing the cat off to do his job. "And don't let me see you without your helmet on again!" The monster let out an affirmative shout as he headed off across the pavement. Manuel just shook his head as he turned back to the detectives. "Kids these days. Monster or man, they don't pay a damn bit of attention to their safety. It's why so many of them wind up in a mess not watching where they are going."_ _

__"Why do you call him 'Burgerpants'?" Blue asked. "That seems a little mean."_ _

__Manuel just shrugged. "He answers to it more than his own name. Don't know why. Seems like he doesn't like it. Got the moniker when he was working at some fast food joint before he came here. Couple of his buddies who got hired in along with him told me about it. They didn't stick around but the name did. Anyway," he said, taking a moment to readjust his own helmet strap, "send me that picture, _Azul_ , and I'll send it to Danilo. He should be here later tonight. I'll ask him about it."_ _

__Black thanked Manuel and turned to Blue. "Guess we'd better start asking around at the other warehouses, Underswap."_ _

__Blue nodded his head, but Black's words caused a look of deep concern to pass over his face. He looked between the two. "You're going to ask them?"_ _

__"Of course," Black said, "we'll need to see if anyone saw anything that night."_ _

__The foreman sucked in a deep breath, letting it out as he shook his head. " _Azul_ , you and your friend here need to be careful. _Abuelita_ would kill me if she thought something I said got you hurt," he told them. With a pointed look at Black, he said, "I know you have had to do a few stops here and there along the docks, but some of these places..." Manuel shook his head. "They change hands more than I change socks. Southside police are here often at a few of them. That stupid rule about no cameras - so much could be solved if we just had a few of those! I spent more time talking to the cops these days than I do working on the docks! We've had to up our security force more than once because of people getting shot." _ _

__He lowered his voice and bent down toward the skeletons._ _

__"Sometimes, you hear the weirdest things around here. From the one next door? They've hauled out cocaine from Colombia and black market bear parts from Russia in just the past few months. Immigration got called in for the one two doors down from that for smuggling people in. I tell you, they had a lot of my workers scrambling for identification that day after they trickled down here. We had this one man, big Albanian guy named Grigor, towered over all of us. Big serious look on his face all of the time. That day? Grigor was sweating bullets because he left his work visa at home. I've never seen a man so happy to see his wife than when his showed up with his green card."_ _

__Manuel just shook his head._ _

__"Danilo can tell you stories. He's only been working with us for about four months now, but he's seen plenty. And there's plenty he _hasn't seen_ , if you get my drift. I know you two have your jobs to do, but the last thing I need is sabotage going on at my dock because they think I sent you over there. Besides, with fog? You'd be better off hitting up the factories. Those closer to the lighthouse sometimes can see farther than us here."_ _

__With another word of caution, Manuel went back to work, leaving Black and Blue no closer to a lead than they started._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to flesh out the finer parts of this story in an outline, so that's why it's been a bit slow going. I have the full mystery, but making it sound good and fleshing out who needs to be and cutting out the rambling, unnecessary parts? That's a bit more difficult.
> 
> Anyway, please leave your comments as usual! They make my day!


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT:  "The Security Guard and the Spider"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new lead is found, and Blue takes Black to get that coffee.

CHAPTER EIGHT: "The Security Guard and the Spider"  
——————————

Manuel was right about no one wanting to talk to the cops. Both he and Blue were viewed with suspicion as they approached, and Black could sense that some of them were ready to cause trouble if they pried too far. Many of the docks were fenced off or had security guards posted by the front, and only two out of the rest of the docks would even let the detectives set foot inside of their barriers without a warrant. They did, however, look over the image Black showed them, but they all said the same thing: no shipments Wednesday night, and reports of heavy fog. 

The warehouses nearby were virtually the same, with most requiring a key card or the person on the outside to be buzzed in. Each time, they were met at the door by a supervisor or security guard, and every time, they Black and Blue left without another lead.

Black felt a lot more at ease when they were able to leave the area. He could tell Blue did, too, for despite his chipper, grateful answers and brilliant smile, Black could tell his energy was a little subdued. His eyelights had dimmed to the normal circles that Black associated with most skeleton monsters, and he could feel the slight pressure of magical buildup around Blue slowly fade as his own did. At least the skeleton had some working instincts...

The shoe factory turned up nothing, but thankfully, they managed to pin down a clue at the lumber-treatment plant. A rather surly security guard met them, sipping down what was likely his nth cup of coffee, his bag-ridden eyes only mildly perturbed at being taken off the job.

As it turned out, the security guard was there pulling a second shift because that shift's guard had called in sick, and as much as he hated it, another eight hours on patrol was another eight hours' of pay. Since day shift hardly ever saw any trouble, he had figured he could just rest later.

Black showed him the photo, which got the expected head shake, but upon being questioned about strange activity Wednesday night, he actually had something to add. Gesturing with his cigarette, he pointed out over the bay, its dark waters still slightly glimmering beneath an increasingly overcast day.

"Heard 'em come through sometime around midnight, not sure exactly when," the man told them. "Judging from the lights, there was at least four of 'em, either speedboats or cruisers. I couldn't really tell. Heard some shouting and a lot of splashing around. Sounded like they were having a race. Heard 'em all idle at one point, then start back up and head out that way." 

He ended the interview by pointing out over the waters in the very same direction where Prescott's cruiser had been recovered.

The detectives thanked him and headed back to their car.

"So Prescott was being chased," Black thought aloud.

"It seems that way," Blue replied. "Wonder who could have been after him?"

"Him," Black said, "or the girl." They still weren't any closer to finding out who she might be. However, the theory that they may have just been snagged up someone wanting to steal the boat before it ran out of gas was quickly crumbling. It made sense that the boats had idled in the bay. It's possible Prescott had tried to lose his pursuers in the fog - a fog which hadn't been visible from the marina at the time the couple had set sail. Maybe he had stopped hoping they could not hear him, or maybe the monster with him had stopped the boat? Could he have been knocked from the ship during a struggle with her or captives that might have boarded the boat? 

Black pondered the lack of shotgun rapport or flares reported by the security guard. Prescott had obviously fallen off at some point - perhaps during a struggle as his vessel was boarded? Or had the monster knocked him from the ship? 

It was now looking more and more like a kidnapping. He checked in with Undyne while Blue gave his own contacts at the station a call. After adding what they had learned, Undyne informed him they had finally managed to get Reginald to leave the dock, but nothing else had been found.

"Keep an ear out for a ransom note, will you?" Black said. "This is looking to be more of a kidnapping case than a couple falling overboard during a joyride."

He held the phone away from his ear as Undyne let out one of her trademark battle cries of affirmation before hanging up. He looked down at the phone before shaking his head and pocketing it. A glance at Blue told him he was nearly finished with his call, as well.

'Considering some of the characters I work with,' Black thought, 'I bet Blue would feel right at home.'

Then the thought of subjecting the other skeleton to Jerry came to mind and he grimaced. Working with that guy sucked the light out of one's soul. Black would give Blue five days before he looked just as dull or darkly serious as the rest of the agents when in the office. While he did wish Blue could cut down the clownish act a smidgen, he didn't want to know if Blue's being robbed of his zeal would steal away his observational skills. Judging from how he reacted when Black got terse with him on the _Eurybia_ , it might.

Besides, loathe as he was to admit it, that smile was starting to grow on him. It wasn't as vicious as Undyne or Alphys' was, but it was...comforting.

'So long as no one takes it for a challenge like some snarling dog,' he thought, remembering the rather twitchy fingers of more than one worker at the less-than-friendly docks. 

A beep let Black know Blue's call had ended, and the police detective turned his smile toward him. "Say, we didn't get you that coffee on the way here! Are you hungry?"

Black thought about it for a moment and realized he might be feeling a little peckish. He had a bad habit of forgetting to eat at times, even when he wasn't on a case and had access to ready food. He'd written off his headache from the barrage of horrid wharf smell and the ringing of Blue's happy shouting and Reginald's angry bellowing from earlier, but the way it lingered and his growing irritation at everything signaled he likely needed food some time ago.

He nodded, and Blue beamed.

"I know just the place! Mweh heh heh!"

Muffet's Corner Cafe wasn't too far away, situated just close enough to the docks that workers might stop in for food on the way to or from the job, but not so close that the grimy smell of the harbor wafted in. As they walked inside, they were greeted with a floor of octagonal tiles, all made up in various shades of warm whites, pinks, and wine-purples, leading out to a variety of wooden tables and booths with cushy cloth-backed seats. Ahead of them was a glass counter containing various coffee and tea pots along its top, with shelves of various syrups, loose-leaf teas, and other ingredients lining the walls. Overhead dangled an array of tea cups like a decorative curtain, out from which now and then a spider would scurry, heading along a thin beam overhead before swinging down through the window into the kitchen or down to a table where customers would chat with it.

"I don't normally like sugary foods and drinks," Blue said, "but if you like coffee or tea, Muffet has a ton to choose from! She also has plenty of healthy sandwiches and such, too."

Black watched as a fuzzy jumping spider leaned out from its hermit crab shell of a mug before swiftly scaling the cord holding the mug in place and heading into the kitchen. Within moments of it disappearing through the open slot in the wall, a spider monster fully bedecked in a fine barista's uniform threw open the kitchen door. Her five eyes, as glossy and dark and polished obsidian, blinked behind a pair of fashion specs made for those with three less eyes. Her mouth pulled back into a smile, showing off tiny fangs.

She stepped out, letting the door swing to behind her as she put two of her hands onto her hips, her other pair still busying themselves by wiping the condensation from a freshly washed tea jar. "Look who finally dropped by!" 

Blue threw up a hand in greeting. "Good afternoon, Muffet!"

Giving the dried jar a careful once over, she sat it aside on the back counter and walked over to the front one, crossing her arms over the top. She cocked her head to the side as she regarded Blue. "Tell me, Blueberry, where has your brother been? I've almost missed Stretch draining my condiment jars."

Black raised an eyebrow as Blue let out an annoyed sigh. "Why am I not surprised he didn't tell you? Serves him right to be so embarrassed after making such a fool of himself," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. His annoyed tone sounded like that of a disappointed father. "He got drunk at Grillby's a few weeks ago with a friend and came home staggering drunk. Tripped right over his own feet on the porch, took out the railing and landed right in the rhodedendrons."

Muffet let out a gasp and replied in a playful, conspiratorial tone, "Not the rhodedendrons."

Blue huffed, his hands flying to his hips. "Yes," he told her, punctuating his words with a nod, "the rhodedendrons!"

Muffet pressed the dainty fingers of two of her hands to her lips, her lips looking as though they were desperate to hold back the laughter bubbling up behind them.

"I still don't even know how he managed to break his ankle when he landed face-first in Dad's prized flower bushes! Do you know what he said to me as I loaded him into the car? He said, and I quote, 'I guess every falling star needs a falling _start_ '," Blue told her, making air quotes as his voice took on a slightly laxer, drunken tone. Muffet burst into giggles as Blue's eyelights rolled and he threw up his hands. "I don't even understand how that's even supposed to be a pun! By stars, how are we supposed to be related again? Muffet," he said, draping himself across the counter and letting out a whine, "tell me he's adopted. I remember Mom's big belly but she could have just had a watermelon taped under her dress for a few months. That's possible, right?"

Black facepalmed and prayed the other patrons did not figure out that the suited monster having a mini-tantrum was a police officer. Judging from the looks they gave him when they noticed the badge insignia and Interpol label on the front of his jacket, he knew his prayers had gone unheard that day. As his hand slid down his face, he watched as Muffet cooed and stroked the top of Blue's head as though she were petting his nonexistent hair.

"There, there, Blue," she said softly, "and you love Stretch, his bad puns and all."

Blue heaved a dramatic sigh and pushed himself up from the counter. "Of course, I do, he is my little brother, after all." 

Muffet withdrew a small basket from under the counter, stuffed a bit of lavender and pick plastic grass into the bottom, and then tucked in a few packets of tea and hot chocolate. She then took a full bottle of honey from the back shelf and produced a ribbon from her pocket, tying it neatly around the bear jar's chin before adding it to the mix and sticking a couple of wrapped cake pops in beside it. A few moments later, the basket was wrapped up in sturdy plastic, a paper heart with her elegant script written on it dangling from its decorative bow.

Blue took one look at the heart and groaned, his own palm meeting his forehead with a loud _thwack!_ Black looked over his shoulder as Blue slumped back onto the counter and read the inscription aloud:

"'To my #1 Customer! Get Well Soon! I'm _Bonely_ Without You!'"

With a voice that sounded like the soul had been sucked out of him, Blue said, "You're as bad as he is."

Muffet merely smiled and stowed her cleaning rag into the string of the apron. "Someone has to tease you when he's laid up," she said, "but do give him that. I wasn't lying when I said I missed him," she said, now regarding Black. "That monster is like Scherezade. Leaves his best stories off on a cliffhanger. I should not send him anything after last time, but...what can I say?" Muffet raised two arms in a shrug, the other two clasping together cutely over her chest. "I'm a bleeding heart."

Blue raised up and plucked the basket from the counter. "I'll be sure to tell my brother you only love him for his stories."

Muffet withdrew the cleaning rag, swatting it like a whip toward Blue, who sidestepped it with an overly exaggerated dodge. Black could feel his head throb.

"If it is alright with you, Detective, I would like to have some dinner with this show."

Blue looked at him and grinned, coming over to sling an arm around Black's shoulders. "Muffet, do you have any idea who this is?" Muffet looked at him and smiled. Black gave a little nod, which she returned. "This is Detective Black Swapfell!"

Muffet's eyes widened, her lips pursing into a curious look. "Swapfell? Isn't he that Interpol agent that you keep talking about?" Blue nodded vigorously.

"Yes, we're partners for a case!"

Black just sighed and shook his head. Muffet barely stifled a giggle, one of her hands rising to cover her lips as she gave Black a knowing smirk. "Well, Detective, you have deepest sympathies," she said with a nod. This, of course, set off a series of protests from Blue, which finally unleashed the deluge of tittering Muffet had been trying to hold back. She picked up a couple of menus and handed them to the detectives. "Here. Go and choose a seat. I will be over in a moment to take your orders."

Blue grumbled before tucking his menu deftly under his arm and marching off toward a table. Muffet winked at Black before she headed back into the kitchen, leaving the Interpol agent to follow his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> US!Muffet totally stole the show here, but she'll be back later. May have stuck in a bit of influence from someone I know that runs a coffee shop and likes to put jokes and little messages on the drinks of people she knows well. I felt like that would go well with the more grounded character US!Muffet seems to have as opposed to her UT!counterpart.
> 
> In addition, "rhodedendron" is a funny word that brings with it a lot of verbal satiation to say. Rho~de~den~drooooon.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!


	9. CHAPTER NINE: "Friends in High Places"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black learns that Blue actually has facial expressions besides a smile and makes an ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did NOT want to write itself, and I've been stuck on it for days. I've got the rest written out but this one chapter in particular half killed me.
> 
> Also, I had to make a few minor changes to the preceding chapters because I realized I had the time frame off by a couple of days. Not sure how that happened but I blame writing while not fully awake some days. Time recap:
> 
> Prescott was said to have gone missing a week prior but was last spotted on camera on Wednesday, three days before the boat was discovered. It's currently Sunday in the story, but it feels like an early Monday to Black.

CHAPTER NINE: "Friends in High Places"  
—————————

Black followed Blue as he marched across the room, heading up to a small overlook lined with tables. Upon reaching the top, Black looking over what was little more than a loft with an appraising eye. It was a good vantage point, allowing Black to survey the lower floor and entrances without being immediately noticed, and one currently deserted by all but the two skeletons. There were no windows up there, only tasteful sconces adorning the walls, illuminating their flower-bedecked tables with warm incandescence. 

Blue moved the vase on one table to one adjacent, then took his seat. Black joined him and was promptly slid a menu, holding his own aloft in a way that was obviously less an attempt to peruse the smorgasbord of treats and more a way to obscure his increasingly annoyed expression.

"I take it the two of you have history?" Black asked as he slid into his chair. Blue grumbled lowly.

"Muffet's my brother's lady," he explained, "or _would_ be if a certain _someone_ would ever put in the effort to do something about it. She practically treats me as if they were already married and I was her little brother. It's insane! I'm older than both of them!"

While the image on his dossier may not have lied, Blue's energy and youthful face certainly did nothing to help his case. Black kindly did not point that out.

"Why not say something about it then? Tell her to leave off?"

Blue's menu fell to the table, revealing the look of a monster who had likely exhausted all options in doing just that.

"Because they are both impossible!" Blue waved his arm in grand gesture, collapsing against the back of his seat. "Papy has sworn me to secrecy, and the last time I offered to tell him for Muffet, she nearly called out her entire spider family on me! I'm sorry, Detective Swapfell, but my department does not have nearly enough tiny handcuffs to put on that many spiders, and unless we install a giant terrarium for a holding cell, then it is best I keep my mouth shut. And besides, if you saw the two of them interacting together, you would realize not a single one of my hints could help. It is nonstop flirting and punning from the moment they lock eyes, but no amount of gazing fondly at one another ever seems to get through their heads that, yes, everyone knows you two are a couple EXCEPT FOR YOU!"

Instantly, Blue capped his hands over his mouth in surprise and looked over the railing. Muffet was nowhere to be seen, so he let out a sigh of relief. Black didn't bother to stop the chuckle that trickled out of himself. Normally, he found dramatic people little more than nuisances, but the obvious honesty of Blue's expressions was good enough for an exception. That, and perhaps it was comforting to see that the "Blueberry", as Muffet called him, had more depth than just smiles and boundless energy. He really seemed invested in most everyone he met and cared quite passionately about them. Especially about his brother.

Black frowned. "I thought Muffet said your brother's name was Stretch? And yet, you called him 'Papy' just now," he pointed out. Blue perked up.

"Oh! That's because 'Stretch' is a nickname," Blue informed him. "My brother got all of the height in our family. He's very tall. Taller than our father, even! He sometimes has to hunch over to talk to some people around him, and he got the nickname Stretch because one of our friends didn't realize exactly how tall he really was until he straightened up. His real name is Papyrus."

Black felt the soulbeat pulse within his chest, but did his best not to show it. Papyrus had been, after all, a popular name for skeleton monsters a couple of decades prior. It was no different than any other name trend and, therefore, should not have gotten a rise out of the detective.

Still, that _name_...

_A skull, its features torn with grievous concern, look back at him, waiting for him to follow-_

It was an image that kept Black going. Was it the same for Blue? No, Blue seemed far too well put-together for that. Perhaps his brother looked up to him, though? Black could see that. Few in Black's life could ever have gotten him to elicit so passionate a response, but he understood how one could be devoted toward family and upholding the image they wanted to project toward them. 

At least, family that had some redeeming factors...

The Interpol agent suddenly found himself immensely interested in what this mysterious Stretch was like. For that matter, what of the rest of Blue's family? What sort of environment had he been raised in that gave way to the unorthodox detective sitting in front of him?

It was a normal urge, to want to know everything one could about the people around himself. With a temporary partner? Even more so. Keep your friends close and enemies closer and whatnot. Black would not have to explain himself to Blue. Blue was also a detective and, thus, had an equally inquisitive nature. His dossier contained only so much information and Black, being under time constraints, had not yet had the opportunity to research the other monster beyond one folder and Alphys' good word.

He steeled himself, however, upon remembering that they had a case to solve, and his energy reserves were in dire need of caloric replenishment.

Changing the subject, Black looked down at the menu. "Strange," he said, thinking aloud, "not many coffee shops I know have menus."

"Well, it is more of a cafe than just a coffee shop," Blue told him. He then showed him how to order using a button in the center of the table. Shortly after, a wolf spider shimmied down from a beam overhead. Black noted the tiny lavender cap, the front labeled with the restaurant's initials, adorning the head of the beady-eyed beast. Following Blue's cue, he told the spider his order and watched the creature do what looked to be a salute before scurrying back up its thread to go deliver their message.

In the meantime, Black turned the topic back to the case at hand, and they sat discussing the clues they had come across for the next few minutes. Theories abounded as to what might have happened to Prescott.

"What do you suppose happened?" Blue asked.

"Possibilities are endless," Black said, looking over the clip of the marina footage on his PDA, "but she quite obviously seemed concerned about going with him. It is possible she was coerced into going. I've seen that sort of thing happen far too often when a victim is of a vastly different status than their aggressor."

"So you think maybe the people following him was trying to rescue her?"

"Maybe," Black said, "or it could be that she had him set up to have him kidnapped and got dragged into it farther than she would have liked. The mayor really seemed to think it was a mutual relationship. It's possible that he was the one tricked, though not so likely. Especially when reminded of Reginald's stance on monsters in general."

Blue rubbed his chin. "Either way, it still seems as though we are at an impasse. Any word from Undyne on a possible ransom note?"

The agent checked his phone for the tenth time since reaching the table. "Not yet."

"But you _do_ feel it was a kidnapping?" 

Black stopped the video and honed in on the screen where a slightly blurry version of the aquatic monster's profile was visible before resting his elbows on the table and pressing his face into his linked fingers. "Considering the missing human's lineage and status, and that the boat was clearly abandoned, then I would say it is our most likely theory. While it is possible that the cruiser may have been abandoned when it ran out of fuel, what do you suppose is the potential for a completely random attack on a cruiser that ran into thick fog, with little missing from it besides its passengers?"

The answer was glaringly obvious: 0%.

No thief, no matter how daring, was going to be willing to chase a yacht cruiser along a shoreline into thick fog to simply abandon it if the boat was the prize. No, the potential for the prize to run aground or crash into something they couldn't see was far too great a risk for safety of the suspects' vessels pursuing it.

Something just did not add up.

"It would seem they were lying in wait for him," Black mused, "or were following them."

"Orders are ready, boys~!"

Black's head snapped up as the lilted feminine voice crooned loudly behind them. Muffet gracefully ascended the stairs, hefting the enormous platter that held their meals as if it were a feather weight. She sat the tray down onto the adjacent table and picked up the drinks.

"What are you two up to that has you looking so dour?" she asked Black. "That case they have you two on?"

The agent made a noncommital noise in his throat. There was no need to give out details to nosy civilians, even ones that were able to elicit something besides a smile from Blue.

"Don't worry, Muffet," Blue said light-heartedly, "that's his normal face. Oh! Detective Swapfell?"

Black raised his head.

"Show her the picture of the lady."

One of Black's brow ridges lifted.

"Muffet's place is popular among both tourists and the dock workers," Blue told him. 

Muffet stood proudly as she shifted the plates onto the table. "It's true," she agreed, "my cafe gets a great deal of business from both the locals and visitors. Many come here because they find the atmosphere cozy and appealing. Quite a few couples stop by on their way to the waterfront, too. Fufufufu~!"

Blue turned to Black with a hopeful expression, and Black could see no reason why not to. After all, Muffet would be far from the first drink monger or shopkeeper to have noticed something now one else had. People also had a tendency to treat waitstaff as part of the decor rather than actual living and reasoning people. Snapping a few quit screenshots that cropped out Prescott, he held the phone up and had Muffet take a good hard look. She crossed two of her arms and tapped her chin daintily with a third, squinting a bit.

"It's hard to tell in a black and white image like that, but I want to think I may have? However," she said with disappointment, folding her hands neatly in front of herself, "I'm afraid that if she has come through here, it hasn't been recently. There are so many monsters, and I do not want to give you a false tip."

Black nodded his head. "Understandable. However, should you happen to hear anything," he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. With a deft flick of his wrist, he withdrew a business card and held it out for the barista, "do let us know."

Muffet took the card and placed it into her apron pocket. "I will ask my family if they remember anyone like her. What is she wanted for?"

"Person of interest," Blue said, "a friend of hers has gone missing, and their family is worried about them." 

The spider woman's eyes opened a bit more fully and she tilted her head thoughtfully. "Do you want this to be intensive or a bit more discreet?"

"More discreet," Blue said. Muffet tittered agreeably.

Black looked between Blue and the barista. Muffet, however, seemed happy to elaborate.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere, my dear detective," she crooned. "After all, spiders can go many places that humans and monsters cannot." Lowering herself to the table, she braced herself against her elbows and spoke softly. "Oh, don't look so disturbed! Just because I run a coffee shop doesn't mean that I don't hear the juiciest information now and then. If there is any way I can help our little Blueberry solve another case, then my family and I are at your service."

The monster lady stood and dropped to a curtsy before retrieving the now empty tray. Before she left, she reached over and booped Blue's nasal bone.

"Muffet," Blue protested, "I'm not that little! For the Angel's sake, I'm a whole year older than you!"

"You are still my little Blueberry~!"

Defeated, a wail of frustration wrenched itself from Blue's mouth, leaving Muffet to smirk at her teasing having well hit its mark. Before she left, she gave Black a wink and nodded toward the police officer. "Make sure he doesn't get himself into too much trouble, dearie, will you?"

And with that, Blue dramatically faceplanted the table, narrowly missing his sandwich, as Muffet sauntered away, playfully swaying like a dancer as she hummed happily to herself.

All Black could do was just shake his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the lovely comments lately on my other fics and podfics! I'm still in the process of deciding on how to do commissions, but if anyone has any suggestions for what they would like to hear or read, then drop me a line! I've also made a Ko-Fi if anyone's feeling particularly generous.  
> Come talk to me ^-^
> 
> TUMBLR: https://readwithdetermination.tumblr.com/  
> 


	10. CHAPTER TEN: "The Skeleton Keys"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More evidence is found, lending credence to Black's kidnapping theory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since you all had a long wait, here's the next chapter! Time for the plot to thicken!

CHAPTER TEN: "The Skeleton Keys"  
—————————

Black had just finished eating his sandwich when he heard a jaunty tone ring out from his cell phone.

It was Undyne.

Instantly, Black had the phone to his head. "What's the word?" He then swiftly brought the phone out about a foot away from his head, anticipating the sergeant's characteristic volume.

" _We've got a lead! Owner of a bait and tackle shop found one of the life jackets. They also have video of our person of interest. We need you dorks down here, yesterday!_ "

Black saw that Blue was nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement.

"Roger that," Black told her, "send us the address and we'll head there."

After Undyne yelled out good luck, the call ended. Black regarded Blue with a small half-smirk as the other detective stood from his chair. "Well, what are we waiting for?" Blue chimed in, moving his discarded dishes to a neat stack at the end of the table to join Black's. He put one hand on his hip and thrust a pointer finger out into the air. "Let's go!"

The thing about the strip of shoreline between the lighthouse and the marina was that it was easy to spot where the socioeconomic divides were. Near the lighthouse, you had the wharf and some unmarked, seemingly abandoned buildings amidst the urban-industrial sprawl. The buildings soon changed to residential, with the more rundown, impoverished areas (often the workers who frequented the wharf and factories nearby) clearly marked by housing that had likely been built nearly fifty years prior and were covered in bright coats of cheap paint. The brighter colors became more vibrant as the houses transitioned from authentic to pseudo-cultural in the tourism-centric areas. As one traveled farther, the colors became muted and more natural, turning into middle class, then upper middle class, and finally the gated communities of the wealthiest of Ebott City's elite.

The bait and tackle shop in question lay roughly along the ambiguous divide between middle and upper middle class areas, near a stretch of beach that, while not clearly marked as private was still not one that non-residents frequented - at least, not during October after an early autumn. Its owner, an old mariner, had long since settled in the area, content to spend his retirement tending to his grandson and swapping stories with the resident fishing enthusiasts.

Therefore, when he came across an eviscerated life jacket with the name "Prescott Thurston" and the professional sailor's trademark logo - a crowned merman wielding a spear - he was baffled. Why would a celebrity be near that beach? He decided to look at the security tapes and find out. 

What he discovered had put him on high alert and made him immediately phone his daughter - who just happened to be an officer with the ECPD.

When Black and Blue arrived, the stony faced old gent greeted them, leading them inside to the back of his little store. As they stepped into the area where the shopkeeper tended the live bait, they spotted a female officer bouncing a toddler on her knee while Undyne was in the middle of a story, her body contorted into a heroic pose. She immediately came out of her Herculean impression once she saw who had arrived.

"'Bout time you two nerds got here!" she reached over and ruffled the little boy's hair and apologized for cutting the story short. The kid just giggled and buried his face in the woman's shoulder as the officer crooned to him and thanked the fish monster. Undyne nodded over toward the office where the old man had gone. "We found one of Thurston's life jackets - the one worn by the female. Some of her hair was caught in the straps, so I've had it sent over to my sister for testing."

Undyne gestured toward the office and in walked the two detectives. As they entered, the shopkeeper had just finished rewinding the tapes. He stepped aside, allowing Black to see the CCTV feed he had pulled up on two of the monitor screens. One was rigged to view the side of the building and a portion of the parking lot, while the other was clearly directed toward the dock where the man claimed to have discovered the jacket. A small fishing boat belonging to the man was tethered there.

"Had the cameras put in after someone vandalized her," the old man said, "and now, I'm glad I did. Watch."

He pressed play on a remote and allowed the footage to roll. Black noted the timestamp in the top corner of each and realized it would have been shortly after Prescott had last been spotted. He could clearly see a thick fog obscuring everything beyond a few hundred yards out onto the water. 

However, as he watched, he could very well see the light of a distant boat. It came through, charging at the shore, then swiftly came about. The lights cut through the fog as the boat turned, zigzagging a bit before heading off camera and back in the direction of the marina. A few minutes passed and the lights could be seen again, slightly farther in the distance and quickly trailed by three more cruisers' worth. The lights danced in the background, bobbing and zipping around like fireflies playing a game of tag.

Soon, Black's eyes caught on a shape emerging from the fog. Cresting the water was a dark figure, the light of the nearby streetlamps glinting off the reflective straps of a life vest. The head and arms could be seen, as well as the long and powerful tail that bobbed along behind the long, thick coat and dress trailing across the water. She reached the shore, a short wave practically spitting her out as she threw herself forward, landing heavily on her side. She grasped and clawed at the sand, attempting to drag herself forward and away from the waves. It was obvious to Black that the heavy, soaked clothes were holding her down. Her long hair fell in a mat over her face, now and then revealing an expression of fear and panic as she fought to stay on shore. At last, she managed to tear the straps off - not bothering to unbuckle them as her hand glowed, extending her claws and allowing her to shred the straps and part of the jacket in her haste to rid herself of them.

As the aquatic monster was flinging the life jacket back into the surf, a car - and older model, its hardier boxlike shape denoting its age - pulled up short into the parking lot on the second monitor. Before the car completely stopped, the doors flew, open and two people hopped out. They instantly bolted over the edge of the parking lot and down the sandy slope toward the monster in distress, with the shorter of the two bearing a sawed-off shotgun. The car's headlights winked out as the driver steps out, hopping around by the door and gesturing, one hand clenching the open door and the other occasionally resting atop his covered head.

Black noted that each of the three new players to this mysterious game were decked from head-to-toe in dark clothing, with hoods, dew rags, bandannas and balaclavas disguising their faces.

Mostly.

The hollow sockets of a skeleton monster were glaringly obvious on the one wielding the firearm. The driver might have been one, as well, if the pinpricks of flaring magical light were anything to go by, although the unnaturally dark bones of an exposed wrist and the those around the eyes made him look as though he had been thoroughly charred before the drive. He looked almost hunchbacked as he stepped around the side of the door, looking to be calling to his - or her? - companions on shore.

'No, most definitely all males,' Black reasoned. Their stances and gaits were far too masculine, and the broad-shouldered bulk of two was obviously present despite the concealing clothing.

The third member of the team, too, was a skeleton monster, although one that was slightly different in appearance. Rather than hollows, he had bone plate scleras, of which one was lit up with offensive magic. He skidded to a halt, slipping and coming down heavily into the wet sand as the aquatic monster reached for him, terror clear on her face. The lead skeleton grabbed her, dragging her waterlogged form onto her back and out of the turbid waters until she was no longer at risk for being pulled back out to sea. Once he released her wrists, they immediately found his coat, wrenching in it and dragging him almost down to her level. She looked to him in a panic, frantically gesturing out toward the boats still zipping around in the distance. The skeleton looked out over the water for a moment, and then turned to his companion with the shotgun who had stopped part of the way and gestured for him to return to the vehicle.

For a moment, the lead skeleton nodded, obviously trying to convince the terrified monster in his grasp of something. However, she visibly flinched, taken aback, and then tried to reach out toward the waters again while attempting to tear away her heavy coat. She was unable to get very far, however, as the skeleton proved too powerful and had her hefted up in his arms before she could even struggle. The panic on her face had turned to despair as she flailed about, the skeleton holding her tight as he ran while she stretched her arms out, reaching and calling for something in the distance. The skeleton's friend soon followed, staying only long enough to watch the boat race until his friend had gotten a head start up the embankment.

Upon reaching the vehicle, the aquatic monster threw her arms out across the top of the car, refusing to move for a moment as the boats veered and suddenly sped off toward the wharf. She seemed frozen, but the moment the last one turned away, she collapsed onto the metal. The one skeleton hopped inside, but the driver stayed outside for a moment more, looking quickly between the crying monster and tall skeleton. The skeleton holding Prescott's former passenger tugged her back to him, and she slumped down, allowing herself to be seated in the recesses of the back seat. He leaned over her a moment, possibly speaking, before he gestured to the driver and they both got into the car. Within moments, it had sped out of frame, and all was still.

The old man stopped the tape.

"That's all I have," he said. After revealing that was the extent of his knowledge, he excused himself to go see his daughter and grandchild. Black thanked him as he left and turned to Undyne.

"We've already run the plates," she informed him, speaking low, "and while they were from a similar vehicle, they came back as stolen. Likely popped off by whoever was driving that car as a cover."

"So whoever is involved isn't in this out of the goodness of their hearts," Blue noted. Undyne ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

"It would seem that way, Detective," Black said. He picked up the remote and rewound the video, stopping to take screenshots of the aquatic monster and the skeletons who had retrieved her. 

Blue stepped over as Black stopped on the image of when the lady monster shifted from terror to despair, his grin stolen from his face. "It's obvious she wanted to go back to Prescott," he told Black, "but it looks like the monster that picked her up wasn't trying to hurt her. He was obviously comforting her before they left." Blue looked over to Black. "I don't think she left that boat willingly."

Black frowned deeply. A feeling way down in his soul told him that Blue was right.

"They clearly knew where she was going to be, despite all of that fog," Black noted. He rewound the tape. "If you take a look here, when the boat first appears, it is heading toward the dock. Prescott must have planned to meet with those skeletons there but was interrupted by whomever was chasing him. She got away-" he gestured to the monster woman, "-but he didn't."

Undyne crossed and uncrossed her arms, looking over the tape as Black pointing out various parts that linked up with his theory. "Skeletons, huh? You guys are rare enough as it is. Hard to believe we have two on the case and three now involved in it."

Black nodded. "That should make tracking them down a bit easier," he said. It was true. Out of the entire monster population, less than 1% were skeletons - and quite a few of them had obvious traits from the other half of their parentage that they didn't look quite like the necrotic archetype. Black assumed this was the case with the charred-looking skeleton who had been driving the getaway car. "If you haven't already, run a search on any skeleton monsters that might have that sort of vehicle. Check our database, too. If they stole license plates, they've likely committed other crimes."

Undyne laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "You got it, dork. Keep this up and you might give me a run for my money."

"If it means you replace Jerry, I would gladly fight you for that sergeant's badge right now."

The fish monster let out a laugh before exiting the room. As she threw open her arms to announce she could finish the story for the shopkeeper's grandchild, Black glanced over and saw Blue looking at him. He nodded back toward the tapes.

"I guess this means we really are dealing with a kidnapping."

Black nodded.

"Now we need to find out who the real target was: him or her."

He turned and pressed play, watching once more as the skeleton lifted the horrified monster into his arms as she reached, desperate, out toward Prescott's vessel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What strange turn of events is this? Stick around and find out!
> 
> Also, in addition to this, what all would you lovely readers enjoying reading or listening to? Any particular pairings? I have this, more Fellswap Sans x Reader, and one action-y/slight comedy of errors CherryBerry fic in the works. I'm almost at the end of my podfic backlog. If anyone wants to hear a custom audio or anything, I can pop that up on Tumblr. Let me know here or over there and watch me work my magic!
> 
> TUMBLR: https://readwithdetermination.tumblr.com/  
> 


	11. CHAPTER ELEVEN: "Why Is Death Always A Skeleton?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a potential witness disappears, Black goes with Blue to help track him down.  
> He discovers a mural along the way that reminds him of darker times and a promise from long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to come out! I got a little sidetracked with my CherryBerry merfolk AU and a side project over on Tumblr.
> 
> This one's a bit darker than the last few chapters but, then again, this fic is going to get a bit darker as it goes on - nothing graphic but something that might warrant a few trigger warnings. Be sure to look at these starting notes for the glaring "WARNING" in future chapters. Any time we come upon a chapter like that, I'll put a quick summary of what happened in the end notes so you won't have to miss the gist of any pivotal plot points while avoiding any personal literary no-nos.
> 
> Seeya at the end!

CHAPTER ELEVEN: "Why Is Death Always A Skeleton?"  
——————————

With as promising of leads as they had the day before, Black was hopeful that the case of the missing business mogul's heir would be well on its way to being closed before he even had time for his morning cafe au lait.

Instead, he woke up to several text messages from an unknown number.

???: Bad news

???: Danilo quit.

The first two messages confused Black and he had to think for a minute who Danilo was before remembering that was the name of the security guard at the docks. Normally, such a thing would not seem like cause for concern. The hard work of being a longshoreman was not for the weak, as Black saw many workers come and go on his excursions to Longshore Wharf. Having a potential witness resign without warning from the place where they might have witnessed a crime in progress, however? Now THAT was cause for suspicion. 

Black continued scrolling through the messages.

???: By the way, this is Blue!

ALPHYS: Black? Blue said your lead ran away. I don't care if he knows the guy personally or not, I'm making him stay put until you get here because he has a bad tendency to get himself into trouble. 

ALPHYS: I gave Blue your number. Sorry if he sent you a ton of texts, but he needs to do something with that restless energy of his. I'd cuff him to my desk but the last time that happened, he just took my desk with him. 

ALPHYS: I'm still not sure how he managed to get it into the passenger seat of his patrol car, but we did have an unprecedented arrest rate that day. 

ALHPYS: Had to rescue him when he got stuck in a revolving door with it, though.

Black just gawked. Blinking owlishly, he took another sip of his coffee and reread the messages from the captain to see if he had misunderstood them. No, he had not. He texted her back to see if she was joking and, to his dawning horror and growing frustration, she was telling the truth.

Apparently, that was not the only time Blue had escaped the captain's handcuffs, and her responses implied that it was not only commonplace for Alphys' to tether her subordinate to her desk, but it also happened often enough that Blue seemed to up his game every time he had the rather unethical detainment applied to him. 

BLACK: Are you seriously telling me he made arrests while dragging a desk?

ALPHYS: Of course not!

Black sighed-

ALPHYS: He was carrying it.

-and then promptly reached for the bottle of headache medication.

The agent was fairly certain most suspects would go without a fight if the police officer confronting them was wielding an entire _desk_ with little effort. He snatched up the dossier regarding his temporary partner and flipped it open, wondering just where in the hell he had missed the part about "superior strength". No wonder both Alphys and Undyne seemed to love him - he was practically their bony stepchild!

Unable to find anything more than a tiny note detailing strengths, Black realized that he likely wasn't going to find much of a listing regarding that. Some monsters were naturally stronger than others, which often made them leaps and bounds above humans in the physical strength department, and to point that out sometimes had...complicated consequences. After all, racism was not solely directed at monsters, and implying humans were the weaker species when some monsters were only on par with their children had some nasty implications when it came to fair and gainful employment.

Groaning into his palms, Black stood up and mentally set about preparing himself for the migraine that was likely to ensue.

Upon checking in with Toriel for any updates in the case with the ICPO (there hadn't been), Black headed down to the Ebott City Police Department headquarters. Almost as soon as he was out of the elevator, he could see Alphys slump down into her chair, throwing her head back with an inpatient groan. Black walked over to her.

"How are you surviving, Captain?"

Alphys flipped her eyepatch back, revealing an annoyed glare to match the other eye. He realized that she must have just come from a workout as she only ever used the eyepatch when she knew she was about to be under bright fluorescent lights, since the old injury that gave her the scar over her protected eye sometimes gave her trouble under their unnatural luminescence.

The lizard threw herself forward to sit upright. "I've been stuck with paperwork all morning and the only break I had was used up trying to convince Blue not to head directly into a potential mess without backup," she said, heavily implying that this was not even close to the first time she had to do just that. Black looked around the room.

"Where is Detective Underswap?"

She thumbed back over toward a hallway. "Showers," she told him, "I made him go a few rounds with me in the ring before you got here to keep him distracted."

As if the very mention of his name had summoned him, Blue instantly appeared in the hall, marching out of it and looking just as bright and peppy as the day before. Considering Black knew just how intense even a "few rounds" in the gym with Alphys was, Black was mildly surprised to see that the workout seemed to not have any effect on Blue. Even his own matches against her in the past had left him feeling at least a little tired, and here Blue was looking as fresh as a daisy!

He wondered how much of it was forced.

"I hope he doesn't fall over on me today," Black said, "as I will need his assistance for this case."

Alphys waved an arm dismissively. "He'll be fine," she told Black. "I swear, that guy has more energy than a kid in a candy store."

Black found he could not disagree. He nodded his head in acknowledgment as Blue threw up a hand in greeting.

"Hey, Bla-" The agent's brow bones furrowed slightly, awaiting the breach of decorum that Blue quickly averted. "-Detective Swapfell! I hope I did not wake you?"

"Not at all," Black informed him, "I am an early riser."

Blue smiled and nodded. "The same!"

Before Blue could begin rambling about some other personal anecdote, Black brought his attention back to the present. "You said the witness resigned?"

Blue nodded, snagging his jacket from his own desk and collecting various items he needed and stuffing them into this pocket or that. "Yeah, that's right! Manuel - you know, the foreman? He called me this morning at the crack of dawn to tell me Danilo never showed up. Called one of his coworkers to replace him last night. Manuel didn't find out until he got to the docks."

"Did he say why?"

"That's the thing," Blue told him, quickly ushering him toward the elevator. He called out a goodbye to Alphys over his shoulder, who just waved before turning back to her mound of paperwork. "Danilo just said he quit and he wasn't coming back. When Manuel called and asked what was going on, Danilo just told him to back off."

Black looked over Blue's nervous countenance as the other pressed the elevator buttons. "And since you seem to know this Danilo person, I would assume your reaction to this means that this was uncharacteristic for his behavior?"

Blue nodded, adjusting the gun holsters under his arms and pulling his jacket back into place. "Absolutely," the detective said, "I know Danilo can have some intense moments since he got out of the military, but nothing that would make him drop a well-paying job without warning. Not unless there was something majorly wrong. He's got a family to provide for."

Black frowned. "Could it possibly be work-related?" 

Blue shook his head. "No, Manuel wouldn't have sounded as worried if it was. As it stands, Manuel himself was about to head over to check on him, but with the shipping schedule at the docks this morning, there was no time."

Black followed Blue out of the elevator and to his car. Blue was a great deal quieter than the day before, for which Black (and his headache) were thankful. While Blue concentrated on the road, Black made his calls, checking in with the lab and his contacts with the ICPO. By the time he had established that there were patrols out looking for the suspect and that the results on the hair were being processed, Black noticed they were pulling to a stop in front of an apartment building. Black looked up to see the green of oxidized metal and weatherworn red bricks, and then heard the car turn off.

"This it?" Black nodded up at the building as he and Blue stepped out. 

He glanced around at his surroundings and took in the colorful business signs, Spanish graffiti, and a lengthy mural featuring religious symbolism of the predominantly human community. The image of a robed skeleton, its face bedecked for Día de Los Muertos, bore down on him from across the street. Its hands held aloft a scale from which a multitude of haggard-looking humans were raised high toward a glorious shining sun, while humans resembling the wealthy elite trickled down from the other side, some clinging to the dish while others fell, treasure flying from their free-falling forms as they slipped out of sight. Judging from the red and orange flames rising from the bottom, it was a fairly good guess to assume they weren't headed for a happy fate.

"Awfully cheery place," Black noted. Blue looked up to see where Black's attention was focused and his concern broke, showing a bit of a somber downturn to his skeletal smile.

" _El Único Juez Verdadero_..."

"My apologies but my skills in Spanish are lacking," he told the detective. 

"Ah, my apologies!" Blue excused himself. "It means 'The Only True Judge'. The mural was painted a few years ago by an artist who once lived in this area. Each of the figures in the painting are of a real person from her home country and those surrounding it. It has a...complicated backstory, but it is meaningful to many of the people in this community as many of them fled similar circumstances."

Black looked over at him. "Care to elaborate?"

"Ah," Blue looked at him apologetically before coming to stand next to him, "do you see the humans? The ones falling?"

Black nodded.

"They are all, or were, members of the elite back where she came from," Blue told him. "Tyrants, military despots, serial killers...other criminals." The detective gave a hard glance toward him, one that Black almost didn't catch, before looking back up at the painting. "The ones reaching up toward the sky...were their victims. Political prisoners, activists, innocents caught in the clutches of a corrupt elite."

Upon hearing the explanation, Black realized that some of the faces in the mural were familiar, and the magic in his bones felt like it had become stone. Many of them were evil beings he had read about in the paper or studied during his university courses, but some of them were more recently brought to justice - in some form or the other. None of them Black had personally been involved in the capture of, of course, but several of the figures once had their faces plastered on Red Notices:

A serial killer who moved between three nations, protected by his association to a cartel head until its kingpin was finally ousted - leaving the killer to show up in his own shallow grave a few months later.

A former dictator, dethroned by a military coup before being tried and sentenced to a public execution.

And, finally, the head of a human trafficking ring, who was now sitting in a prison cell doing a life sentence with the help of Interpol intervention.

The latter caused the magic within Black to flow again, tiny charges deep inside popping like bubbles in a boiling pot. He clenched his fists and somberly nodded to the symbolic doom awaiting the painted figure. 

'One day,' Black vowed, "one day..."

Suddenly, a voice by his side brought him back to reality.

"Why is it humans always depict Death as a skeleton?" Blue asked him. Black turned and saw the detective's smile had returned, even if his vocal volume was still dampened by taking in the sobering artwork. "It makes us skeleton monsters seem like such a dour crew. It's funny, though, because most of the skeletons I know are full of life! Mweh heh!"

Regarding the mural once more, Black could feel images and voices erupt from the back of his mind, flashing over the scenes of brightly illuminated victims and hell-bound demons in human form.

" _...the boss will want this one..._ "

" _-Why would a monster care about-_ "

" _...another perfect piece..._ "

" _-Sans? Sans, get up! Sans, I-_ "

"...No more."

"Huh? I am sorry, Detective Swapfell, I didn't quite catch that."

Black shook his head before realizing he had spoken aloud. "Nothing. Let's go."

Blue clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded before turning and heading to the entrance of the apartment complex. Black followed, taking one last look at The Only True Judge, the dark, hollow sockets boring into him like a reminder of the void that persisted in his SOUL - and the promise he made that lead him to don the badge in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the ocean and murals keep working their way into my work without my intention? Is this my mind's unconscious way of saying I need to move to the beach and become an artist? XD
> 
> Speaking of artist, so I did a thing. Like a cheerer-upper thing for somebody, and now, I kinda wanna do like motivational audios? Those would be cute.
> 
> TUMBLR: https://readwithdetermination.tumblr.com/  
> YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCaQd1Pjqd6plN9Z8EjmvVvg  
> 


	12. CHAPTER TWELVE:  "Survivor's Solidarity"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black and Blue track down their witness, but have to get creative in order to get him to talk.  
> Black leaves with a further complicated case...and a balm for his nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember those warnings I was talking about? Well, we have some minor ones today!
> 
>  **CHAPTER WARNINGS:**  
>  *Brief mention of human trafficking  
> *Brief mention of abduction/scare tactics  
> *PTSD/Anxiety  
> *Monster-Human Racism
> 
> Seeya at the end of the chapter!

CHAPTER TWELVE: "Survivor's Solidarity"  
—————————

One flash of their badges later and both detectives were buzzed into the apartment complex. Black followed Blue as he navigated the stairways and halls of the building, eventually arriving at a door on the third floor. Blue gestured for Black to wait as he rapped his knuckle bones against the door.

A woman's voice called out from within the apartment. It was obvious she was speaking to someone on the inside rather loudly before they arrived. Blue tugged his jacket into place, and turned to face the lookout pinhole, his grin wide. He waited a moment and did a half-wave, half-salute, and then Black could hear locks and door chains being undone on the inside.

Within seconds, the door opened to reveal a frazzled-looking plant monster, humanoid in shape. She tossed her dread-like vines over her shoulder as she stroked the dark green hair of a hybrid child - clearly the result of human-monster parentage. She, like most every other person the police detective ran across, seemed genuinely happy to see Blue.

The weight seemed to lift from her shoulders and her dark eyes brightened. "Blue! What are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Azalea! Manuel called me this morning and said Danilo just up and quit without a word," Blue informed her, keeping his words light and happy as he turned his smile on the toddler balanced on her hip. He spared a few soft words for the child, who giggled before shyly hiding her head in the crook of her mother's neck. "Is he here?"

Azalea pulled her child close, giving the little on a kiss one the forehead as she gently cupped her hand over the girl's ear. Then she nodded. "He is," she said quietly, stepping to the side, "will you please come in? He wouldn't let me call anyone but I know if anyone can get through to him, it's you."

Blue gratefully accepted and headed inside, with Black trailing along behind him. Azalea shifted her baby up onto her hip before closing the door and redoing the locks. When she turned back to the detectives, she looked over Black with suspicion. 

"Allow me to introduce Detective Swapfell of the ICPO," Blue said, gesturing to Black. Black nodded his head, receiving a nod from Azalea in return.

"Interpol?" she said incredulously. "Blue, is Danilo in trouble?"

Blue looked around through the apartment, and then back to Azalea. "Not necessarily, but he may have witnessed something," he looked back down the hall before nodding toward one room. "Is he in there?"

Azalea nodded and gestured for them to follow. Presently, they entered a sparsely furnished living room where Black saw a very worried-looking human male sitting on the couch, his lips pressed tightly to his clenched hands and the rosary beads gripped within them. Azalea gently spoke his name, causing the man - now identified as Danilo - to nearly jump right out of his skin. The plant monster smiled softly.

"Sorry, honey, but we have guests," she said, moving aside as Blue strolled into the room, stopping about halfway into the archway. Danilo looked shocked to see him and turned to his wife, looking between the two of them. He said something in Spanish and she shook her head.

"Azalea didn't call me," Blue told him, "Manuel did."

Danilo looked a bit guilty and sank down into the couch, allowing his arms to rest over his knees, the rosary in his hand dangling nearly to the floor. He heaved a heavy sigh. "Leave it to Manuel to stick his nose in where he doesn't belong."

Blue nodded toward the sofa. "May I?" Danilo nodded and Blue came over, taking a seat on the couch, giving Danilo ample space. Blue rubbed his hands over his pants, smoothing out the wrinkles, and sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees much like Danilo's were. "So what happened, old friend?"

Danilo said nothing, and his jaw seemed to clench tighter. After a moment of silence, Blue looked up to Black and gave a subtle shift of his eyelights towards the plant monster. Black got the message and gave a small nod while the lady was fussing over her child.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" he asked. Azalea's head snapped upward. "I hate to trouble you, but I am afraid I left my water bottle back at headquarters. Would you happen to have a spare?"

The plant monster perked up and nodded, smiling. "Certainly, just let me go put Rosa down for her nap, and I'll get you one." With that, Azalea left the room.

Instantly, Danilo let out a shaky sigh, and Black honed in on him. Blue scooted slightly closer and spoke lowly.

"Danilo, I know it's not like you to just up and leave a job without notice like that," Blue said. "What happened?"

With his wife out of earshot, Danilo relayed what had happened to him. When he had gone into work that morning, he parked near the end of the parking lot because the rest was still mostly filled up from the third shift work crews of the other docks. As he began making his way across, he was suddenly tackled by an unseen assailant. One moment, he was in the parking lot - the next, he was in an alley several blocks away without any knowledge how he got there so quickly. All he knew was that he was then slammed up against the wall by some monsters dressed in dark clothing and told not to look at them.

"How do you know they were monsters?" Black asked. Danilo looked up, seeming to notice Black was there for the first time. Blue smiled and waved an arm toward his partner.

"Danilo, meet Detective Black Swapfell of Interpol. Detective? Meet Danilo Guerrero."

Black offered his hand and Danilo took it. He could feel the human's hand slightly shaking in his grasp.

"Interpol? Why is...?" Danilo looked to Blue.

"I was actually going to ask Manuel to talk to you over a night earlier during the week," Blue told him, "in case you saw something."

"N-no," Danilo replied instantly. "No, I haven't...I haven't seen anything strange. Just this morning."

The look Black shot Blue told him he didn't believe a word of that.

"So...these monsters?"

"I didn't see anything," Danilo insisted, refusing to look at either detective now. "They just told me not to come back or my family and I would be in danger," he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, and Black almost didn't hear him. "They had a picture of my family, man. Azalea and little Rosa. The one I keep on my phone. I don't know how they got it - I've never even seen them before!"

At that point, the human started to hyperventilate and Blue tried to calm him down. Blue managed to get him to lay back against the couch, coaching him to take deep breaths and let them out. He then began asking Danilo questions: Could he tell Blue where he was? No? Could he tell him what the texture of the couch arm felt like under his hand? Could he describe what he saw when he opened his eyes? How about the date? So on and so forth did Blue continue until his grounding techniques finally brought the distressed human back into the present.

"It's okay, Danilo," Blue told him, "you didn't see anything. Right, Black?"

Black furrowed his brow. Was Blue really just going to let this go so easily? They had a potential witness to a crime who had his life and the lives of his family threatened!

He'd already gotten word from Sergeant Undyne that Reginald Thurston was breathing down the necks of the rest of their branch.

Black felt another twinge of a headache coming on. 

'Hopefully, the labs and patrols will have better luck than we've had,' he thought.

About that time, Azalea returned to the room, handing Black an unopened water bottle as she apologized for taking so long. Blue scooted over so she could take a seat next to her husband, who immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Black could see Danilo's eyes move to the monster's stomach, which was far more pronounced with Azalea sitting down. The sorrowful look in his eyes left him utterly drained, and Black knew the choice between protecting his growing family and providing for them must have hit him hard.

"So, are you going after those hooligans that roughed up my Danilo?" Azalea said. "To think he was nearly mugged in the parking lot of his own workplace!"

Danilo remained stone-faced, his eyes on Blue. Blue, however, did not even bat an eyelight, and merely maintained his trademark grin as he went along with the excuse. "I'm sure we'll find them, Azalea. In the meantime..."

He gestured to Black to come sit down. Black, annoyed they were killing time but realizing that their person of interest wasn't likely to talk with his wife in the room, especially after having just come out of a minor anxiety attack, came over and pulled up the lounge chair near Danilo. 

"Hey, Danilo? Wasn't Calderon from La Paz?"

Danilo, still pale, seemed genuinely taken aback by the question. "Wait, are you referring to the international car thief Calderon? _That_ Calderon?"

Blue nodded. "This is the agent that caught him," he said. Danilo brightened incredibly and exchanged looks with his wife, both of them looking at Black with impressed faces. Instantly, the couple seem to recognize Black.

"I saw you in the papers!" Danilo pointed to Black. "This monster rounded up one of the most wanted men from my old country! My mother was from La Paz. She knows a woman that went to school with him."

"Heh, well," Black said, unable to stop the pride rising up within him, "I am no longer just an agent."

Azalea's black eyes widened and a hand slowly went to her mouth. Suddenly, she whirled around, pinning Blue with a look. "Is that the one you were talking about when we brought Rosa over after she was born?" Blue, once again, nodded. This time, Azalea looked back in absolute awe. She touched her husband on the forearm to get his attention and murmured something low in clipped Spanish, sobering his expression.

"You were the one who took down the Mandarro Trafficking Ring," he said, "weren't you?"

He should have been prepared for it.

He was so, _so_ sure that he would be able to handle it.

But the fact that he wasn't expecting it was nearly his undoing.

Black knew the subject was going to come up eventually, but it still felt like a punch to the gut when he was reminded of it. Weeks of leave and therapy did nothing to help after seeing what he did, and he was still half-surprised he didn't have the paparazzi hopping out of darkened alleyways in order to bombard him with their numerous judgmental questions.

He kept his expression calm, although his magic began to rush through him faster, bubbling and sparking deep within his bones in case of an impending physical altercation. It took every ounce of self-discipline within him to not resort to tunnel vision, but time itself seemed to slow down, and he found with no little irony that the human that had been on the verge of an anxiety attack only moments before was mow the calm one, and Black himself doing his best to maintain his composure.

He expected the mayor to talk about it.

He had expected Reginald Thurston to mention it.

But he never expected a security guard who had been frightened right off the docks to be the one to bring it up.

He steeled himself for the onslaught of questions to come, of the _judgment_ upon him that he - a monster of the law - broke his composure and committed an abuse of his position of authority, stepping out of line to do something so...

So _human_...

Out of everything he expected, though, having Danilo stretch out his hand was not one of them.

Solemnly, Black took the man's hand and shook it, earning a nod from from the human.

"I do not care what the papers say about you, Detective Swapfell," Danilo said, "mayor's brother or not, that _bastardo_ deserved far more than what you did to him. He's lucky you knew when to stop. With the rest of us?" Danilo squinted his eyes and shook his head. "No. It takes a strong person to hold back when faced with something like that. I don't know anyone else who could have done that."

A wave of nausea passed over Black as he tried to loosen his grip on the man's hand. Danilo, though, held it firm. Black tried to keep his breaths steady and even and remember the words his superiors and attorney told him to speak. But he found every word he tried to say felt as thick as sludge in his mouth when he tried to justify such behavior.

Monsters, they were made of love and compassion. They weren't made to be violent. They weren't made to take justice into their own hands. And they certainly weren't made to take it to extremes, to scar themselves with LV - which brought on a rise in strength but a desire for _more_. The lust for power only begot more lust for blood, and then, once you were inundated with EXP, it was only a matter of time before you were too scarred, too deranged to be a monster anymore.

No, at that point, you weren't a monster.

You weren't a human.

You would be...one of _them_.

It scared Black that he, as an officer of the law, could allow himself to be distorted with such thoughts.

It frightened him that maybe that bastard Jerry was right, and that it was his LV crying out for continued accumulation. 

Black hated knowing why he had ever acquired LV in the first place.

Most of all? He hated knowing that, deep down, there was a little voice that whispered to him that what he had done was _the right thing_. That, in some cases, the only justice was that sort of swift and immediate vigilante justice.

'Defective Detective, indeed,' Black thought grimly.

"Agent Swapfell?"

Black snapped his head toward Blue.

Ah, yes, his partner. Alphys said he admired Black's work, didn't he? He had been awfully careful about not mentioning the near international incident Black had caused. Perhaps he did not know? The last thing Black needed was for a case to be hindered by a monster who was suddenly too disgusted with him for disgracing his post to effectively work with him.

Surprisingly, neither horror nor disgust was present, and instead, Blue was smiling as brightly as always.

"Do you still have some photos of the cars you recovered from Calderon?"

Black blinked. "Yes..."

Grinning, Blue scooched in closer to the couple and waved for Black to come closer. "You should show them to Danilo! My friend here is quite the car enthusiast."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Black nodded, forcing a relieved half-smirk onto his face in gratitude. The change of subject came easy, and the couple seemed to instantly forget all about what they were talking about in favor of reviewing pictures of the various expensive roadsters stolen and driven by the infamous thief. 

As he was slowly flicking through them, describing the specifics of each car, Danilo seemed to open up more and more to him. As he neared the end of the reel, he noticed Blue waggling his cell phone toward him. While Danilo and his wife were distracted, Black glanced over and saw Blue nod slightly downward. Black looked at the phone and realized that Blue had typed a message for him.

A message that just so happened to be an ingenious idea.

An appreciative smirk played over his face, and he pulled up his own phone to flick through to a certain image. Upon finding it, Black waited until Danilo had finished delightedly explaining to Azalea why a certain car could be so fast before he put Blue's plan into action.

It was a dirty trick, of course, and Black was surprised at just how underhanded the hyperactive policeman was, but it was worth it if it garnered results.

Judging from the way that Danilo flinched as the color drained from his face, Black knew that slipping in the picture of the mysterious skeletons from the CCTV footage had hit home.

'Bingo,' he thought with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at his phone. "Now how did that get in there? Hmm, I suppose I have reached the end of the photo reel," he said, pulling his phone back to him and making a show of pretending to peruse his photo gallery. After a moment, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and stood. "Well, no matter. I suppose we have taken enough of your time, Mr. Guerrero. If you do remember anything, be sure to give one of us a call, yes?" 

Black took out a business card and handed in to him. Danilo looked momentarily shocked, but then Blue stood and winked at him. Finally, he shook his head, a knowing smirk toying at his lips as he seemed to realize that Black and Blue had gotten everything they needed to know without him ever having actually told the cops about who he saw. Blue nodded to him and, promising to bring his brother by to see the kid once Stretch's leg healed up, he started to leave.

As Black stepped outside, he heard Danilo call to him.

"Detective Swapfell?" 

Black turned to human as he stopped in the doorway.

"I know they gave you a lot of hell for what you did, but thank you."

The Interpol agent realized that the conversation he had hoped he had gotten away from was suddenly being thrust into his face once again, and he stiffened.

"When I came to this country, it was hard for me to get on my feet," he said, "but I managed. I had friends, family," he looked over and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist, "and a lot of good people who supported me. But some people? They don't have that. It's so easy for poor people who have come here looking for a better life to slip through the cracks. When you don't know the area or the language very well, it's so easy for some to be taken in by predators like the ones you've stopped."

He looked at Azalea who stared back at him fondly, then turned Black once more.

"Most people, they do not care about what happens, so long as it does not affect them. But people like you? You care. Those lost and forgotten? You bring them home. And people like us?" he pointed to himself. "We remember."

Black swallowed thickly, realizing that maybe, just maybe, he had not hid his inner demons as well as he thought. Or perhaps Danilo had read all of the dirt the media had dug up on him. He had tried to avoid most of it, but Jerry had giving him a dramatic reading of every news article he could get his grimy little hands on and had reminded him of the large population of monsters that felt someone with too much LV could be dangerous, regardless of how they acquired it.

Then again, the human before him was a war veteran, was he not? Maybe he didn't need the monster's ability to CHECK. Those types always seemed to know another scarred spirit when they met one.

In a moment of solidarity, Black tipped his head, hoping he could convey his grateful appreciation that his service still mattered to people despite his mistakes, his defects.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

There was still a case to solve, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **POST-CHAPTER RECAP** (for those that decided to skip due to warnings:
> 
> Danilo doesn't want to talk because he was threatened on his way to work and told his family would be in danger if he didn't leave.  
> Danilo goes into an anxiety attack.  
> It comes out in the open that Black took down a human trafficking ring involving the mayor's brother, prompting a near anxiety attack from Black and a lot of self-loathing due to how he handled the case causing a lot of problems/his inner torment over his LV and how he acquired it.  
> Then Black brings out car pictures and slips an image of the footage in there, and BOOM! They've found who threatened Danilo!  
> \------------------
> 
> There's still going to be some humor and eventual romance, but I do want to remind everyone that I made this story Mature for a reason.  
> It's going to get dark and gritty and, in some parts, painful, but the themes of surviving and justice and good conquering evil will be prevalent throughout the work and are its general focus.
> 
> That being said, I need to go work on my CherryBerry fic now because I've done gone and made myself sad from my own freaking fic, and it ain't even at the saddest parts yet and T^T
> 
> TUMBLR: https://readwithdetermination.tumblr.com/  
> YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCaQd1Pjqd6plN9Z8EjmvVvg  
> 


	13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: "Suspects Identified"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black and Blue finally identify two of the mysterious skeletons...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, has it really been so long since I updated this? I need to get cracking! There's still plenty of story to tell!  
> Thanks for hanging in there! Today's chapter is going to be a bit less dark - and the plot thickens evermore!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: "Suspects Identified"  
——————————

The two detectives walked back to the patrol car in silence, for which Black was very thankful. Not being the focus of questioning meant he was able to step back mentally and become another piece of the environment. It wasn't something that he had always been comfortable with but, on occasions like this when painful memories pervaded him, he was able to get back on track more easily by disconnecting from the rest of the world. The moment of silence allowed him to step to the sidelines of reality rather than feeling he had to be everywhere at once, both a stone wall and a driving force as any good agent of the ICPO must be. 

Reveling in the silence, he let himself fall back into the age-old motions he had conditioned himself with to draw him out of his dark thoughts. He breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of fresh air mingled with the hint of some spicy dish that wafted down from an open apartment window above him. The soft whir of cars as they came closer, crescendoing in a loud whir as they moved past on their way to their unknown destinations filled his ears, now and then interspersed with the distant sound of a commercial truck letting off its brake and the whistle of a train pulling up to an industrial site. He focused on the heel-toe movement of his individual steps, taking in the hardness of the ground pressing back as his weight evened out over his moving feet.

The simple moment of grounding allowed him to compartmentalize his thoughts, reminding himself that there were more pressing matters of which to attend. 

It wasn't until he found his eyes drawn back to the mural on the opposite street again that Black realized he had zoned out for nearly the whole walk back.

That was not a leisure he normally allowed himself. At least, not around any but the few superiors and arresting officers that had proven to have his back. He scolded himself for doing the same thing around Blue, but he had to admit the police detective had a calming way about him. Black took pride in his impeccable instincts, so somehow, he had subconsciously deemed Blue capable enough to make sure he didn't walk into traffic or any other trouble while he was returning to himself.

Black was grateful that Blue had afforded him that moment of silence and realized, with a slight smile tugging at his face, that Blue must genuinely be about to burst from keeping quiet for even so short a time. He felt the detective stop and stand beside of him and, from his peripheral vision, noted that Blue had his gaze also focused on the mural.

For several moments, the two stood in easy silence, giving Black a few more moments to ground himself. Finally, Black decided to break the ice:

"That was clever work back there, Underswap," he said, not looking at Blue right away. He saw Blue shrug.

"I would have preferred not to have needed to resort to tricks with someone I know, but Danilo is like most people in this community. They will not go to the police when threatened. They will do their best to remove themselves from the situation if they cannot handle it themselves, but once their mouths are shut, you have more of a chance of winning the lottery than getting any of them to talk. However, there are several lives at stake, so, as an officer of the law, I must do what I can to protect them."

There was a somber confidence in Blue's words, a tone that Black himself had heard many a time - both from his colleagues and from himself. 

It was the sense of duty warring with one's heart.

"Well," Black said, glancing over at him, "you didn't actually make him say anything, did you?"

Blue shot him a grateful smile and shook his head. "No, I don't suppose I did." Black clicked his teeth.

"As far as I know, he didn't say anything back there. Not one word."

The two shared a look and Blue nodded, conveying his gratitude wordlessly. "Not a one. So," Blue asked, "where to next?"

Thankful that Blue didn't bring up the uncomfortable elephant in the room from earlier, Black slipped into the passenger side of the patrol car with practiced grace, bringing up his phone to check for any messages or voicemails he had received during their investigation. After a cursory glance, he realized the case was at a standstill, so it was time to shake things up.

"Let's go see what Prescott's little friends were up to around the time he disappeared."

After receiving a list of potential suspects to interview, Black and Blue spent most of the rest of the day driving around, knocking on doors or making calls and setting up meetings. Black was thankful to have Blue with him as it was sometimes difficult to hold himself back when dealing with snootier contacts and getting them to take things seriously - and, if he was truly honest with himself, the conversation with Danilo still left a lingering foul mood that was better suited for apprehending more violent suspects than using diplomacy. 

Fortunately, everyone had already been contacted by Prescott's father and they seemed genuinely concerned for his safety. Unlike Reginald, the younger Thurston was very beloved, and that coupled with Blue's ability to put most anyone he talked to at ease meant they were all very forthcoming with information and willing to point the detectives toward new potential leads.

This was surprising, to say the least. Black had dealt with enough trust fund babies to know that there were more than a few illicit activities many of them were apt to get involved in: dalliances, drug usage, owing gambling debts to loan sharks, soliciting prostitutes, an a whole plethora of other sins. But Prescott? It seemed he truly was the stereotypical golden boy. Had he not been, Black would have been able to pick up on the hesitation in his friends' voices, as most would do whatever they could to stop from outing their own involvement in criminal affairs. Yet when questioned, each person could run their stories from back to front with the same honesty as they first relayed them.

The only problem was that, once alibis were reviewed, each potential suspect's story checked out. Even some of Prescott's staunchest rivals were found with clean hands.

"...Meaning whoever kidnapped him was either hired professionals or knew a side of Prescott that no one else did," Blue mused as Black finished recounting the last of the reports taken from the overseas competitors by other ICPO agents. Black nodded.

It wasn't unheard of for even someone with as busy a public life as Prescott Thurston to have a secret hidden life. The video footage from the marina had clearly shown that Prescott had been wary, as if he knew he might be followed. Also, his monster companion had clearly been upset as she gestured back toward Thurston's speeding vessel before she was spirited off by the mysterious skeletons. As if she had been pleading for help.

But therein lied another mystery. Why would three monsters in disguises know where to show up at that time? There was an obvious criminal vibe to all of them, and with the way they responded, they were obviously a mostly organized unit. The one that had been armed and the one that had taken the aquatic monster reacted with the practiced ease of someone who had faced battle before.

There were too many unanswered Whys for Black's comfort.

He knew the aquatic monster was the key to learning about what had happened that night.

They needed to find her.

Blue's phone pinged, causing him to let out a loud, jubilant noise. "Hey, the plates came back!"

"Plates?" Black asked. They hadn't been able to see the license plates on the vehicle from the footage.

"Dogamy secured CCTV footage from a business near a residential area not too far away from the scene," Blue told him. "Same exact vehicle, windows tinted so heavy you couldn't see anything inside. On top of that, we had an unusual report from a couple of joggers and one fisherman within an hour of our person of interest being picked up. Seems as though an unfamiliar dark unmarked car with tinted windows was passing through very slowly, as if looking for something. Because of the fog, no one could make out much, but a human male with sunglasses was clearly seen driving the vehicle and there looked to be others inside. Seems as though it sped off when the fisherman tried to take a look."

"Well, let's hope this isn't another big fish tale," Black said, "and that we have another lead. Any plates on them?"

"Nothing yet," Blue said, "seems like the fog got too bad that morning to pick up anything else. Dogamy said he'd keep us informed."

"What about those plates?"

Blue's grin widened. "Seems like it was registered in the name of a skeleton monster named Aldus SimSun. Vehicle itself was purchased from an independent seller from an ad he placed online three months ago."

"Where do we find this SimSun fellow?"

The police detective chortled triumphantly. "Now _that_ is where things get interesting!" Black prompted him to continue. "You see, Aldus SimSun has been dead for over a year."

Black narrowed his eyes on Blue. "Identity theft and fraud?"

Blue nodded. "Mmm-hmm! And the report that we got from Louisiana law enforcement this morning matches up with the description of the buyer."

At that, Blue leaned toward Black and showed him the screen of his phone. The first image showed somewhat grainy footage from a CCTV camera of a skeleton monster in a hooded coat and baseball cap. The next, however, contained the very clear mugshots of the same person. 

The monster looked like he shouldn't be alive. A gaping, jagged hole was bashed in on the left side of his skull, caving in part of the frontal and parietal bones around the coronal suture. A bloody red disc made up his one gleaming eyelight, and a deranged grin split his maw like a Glasgow smile. His chin was slightly tucked, his hulking shoulders scrunched up to make it seem as though he was waiting to toss aside the identification placard so he could attack the camera. His finger bones were positioned on one side so that he was very obviously making a rude gesture, showing off well the tattoo imprinted on the proximal phalanx.

That caught Black's attention.

Skeleton monster did not normally tattoo themselves. The bones of their faces might be malleable to some extent, but most of their others were as solid as the skeletons of any other creature. In order to not damage the bone, they had to undergo a special magical process in order to be detailed. When done properly, this left the tattoos as alive with magic as their eyelights and often made them seem sentient.

Black expected that was the case with the eerie violet eyelights imprinted on the solid black skull. A series of three geometric black bones, each with broken ends ending in triangular points, crisscrossed behind it.

Blue noticed Black had honed in on the tattoo. "Sort of looks like you, doesn't it? The purple eyelights, I mean."

The agent harrumphed. "Do not lump me in with common criminals," Black told him. "This is our suspect?"

The other detective nodded. "Schadow SimSun, aka 'Axe'. Aldus SimSun's eldest adopted son. He has quite the rap sheet: assault and battery, disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace. Hasn't seemed to have caused too many problems since finishing out his probation for a charge of public intoxication and minor property damage, about two years ago."

"Where's he at now?"

Blue flicked the screen once more and brought up another photo. This time, it was of a skeleton hybrid with bones so dark they almost looked charred. Here and there, Black could see the sheen of a greenish-bluish magic caught under the light. What caught his attention, though, were the long, thick tentacles that enveloped him, extending out from his back. He looked like he was also trying to intimidate the cameraperson, but his stance and grin held an air of smugness that was absent in the raw and feral look of Axe. Black could see a similar tattoo, outlined in white, on the back of his right thumb.

"Umbra Excelsior, nicknamed 'Nightmare'."

"Not aka?"

Blue shook his head. "Nothing that could stick," he said. "He's been hauled in for questioning in two deaths - one of a missing gang member who had mugged his brother who was later found submerged in a sewer, and that of a hotel owner who was posthumously found to have been running a trafficking ring out of his business."

Black felt his SOUL clench at the mention of trafficking and he could feel the magic briefly flare from one eyelight. Blue, thankfully, did not comment.

Black pushed aside his questions about the previous interrogations and swallowed heavily, his tone coming out stonily serious. "What do these two have to do with that car?"

Blue swiped to another picture showing the pair in question. "Take a look at their builds," he said, swiping back to the first image of Axe and then finally to the footage from the beach. He pointed to the outline of the driver with the strangely hunched back. "I would bet what we're seeing right there is a mass of tentacles bunched under his clothing. Take a look."

After Blue handed Black the phone, the agent perused the photos with a keen eye. With a few layers to make Axe look bigger and something to bind down Nightmare's tentacles, he was almost certain the two on the shore could pass for those two skeletons. His SOUL raced with the realization. "Where are they?"

"Herein lies the kicker, Detective Swapfell! Dogaressa almost pulled them into the precinct a few months ago due to their involvement in a bar brawl. They were let go after the bartender vindicated them. They seemed to have disappeared since their lease ran out last month, but they do still have a contact in the city."

"Who?"

Blue showed him a picture of a clean-cut skeleton monster with golden eyelights. "Nightmare's brother. He's a psychiatric student at Ebott University."

As Blue put away his cellphone, Black reached over and buckled his seat belt. "What are we waiting for? We have a case to solve!"

Blue smirked as the patrol car roared to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freaking love Horrortale Sans. Just saying. 
> 
> Want to know where I've been? Come check out my YouTube and Tumblr! All my links are there, as well as a bunch of art, audios, and funny I don't have on here!
> 
> TUMBLR: https://readwithdetermination.tumblr.com/  
> YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCaQd1Pjqd6plN9Z8EjmvVvg


	14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: "Another Golden Child"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The detectives meet Dream and learn more about their potential suspects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, we get more of the other skelly boys now! Here's Dream! Hope the way I decided to work with his personality for this AU fit.
> 
> (also, apologies if there are any grammar errors. Another quick post before work!)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: "Another Golden Child"  
——————————

The sun was starting to set as the detective duo pulled up onto the campus. A simple word with the dean put them in touch with Nightmare's brother. The pair waited in campus security's breakroom as they waited for their person of interest to arrive.

Within ten minutes, a nervous-looking young skeleton appeared in the doorway. While skeleton monsters didn't normally need to breathe, they, like most monsters, often had a burst of energy similar to an adrenaline rush whenever they were frightened or angry. The psychiatric student looked about as breathless as one might expect a monster who had run from one side of the extensive university to the next.

Clinging to the doorway as a way to stop himself, he looked around, finally spotting the two detectives. Immediately, Black and Blue stood, and the young monster instantly straightened.

"Optima Excelsior?" Black asked. The monster, wide-eyed, frowned and nodded. He walked over to the table, his expression morphed into something far more stoic, and he cleared his throat. Golden eyelights cautiously searching for something in Black's gaze. He extended his hand and gave Black a firm handshake, then turned and did Blue the same courtesy.

"I go by Dream most days," he asked. His eyes shifted between the two. "My professor said you needed to speak with me?"

Blue waved his hand and invited the student to sit down. "My name is Detective Underswap with Ebott City Police, and my partner here is Detective Swapfell of the International Criminal Police Organization."

Dream's brow bones shot up his forehead. "Interpol?" It was here his stoic expression began to fade. He gulped audibly and looked between the two of them. "My...my brother...Did somebody hurt my brother again? I-"

Whatever emotional wall he had tried to build up crumbled and he clasped Blue's arm, his legs suddenly giving way as a look of panic washed over his face as he began to hyperventilate. Blue was able to lower him into a seat before Black could barely move more than a step. 

"Whoa, easy there, friend," Blue said softly.

The police detective shared a look with Black, who gave a subtle nod. "You said 'again'? Has somebody been after your brother recently?"

Dream ignored the question and shot back one of his own. " _Is my brother okay?!_ "

Black sat down, his hand firm on Dream's other shoulder. The other skeleton was shaking. Black told him firmly but kindly to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "To our knowledge, your brother has not been harmed. We are just here to ask a few questions because we think he may have information on an active case."

Dream scoured Black's gaze for any hidden truths but finally let out a sigh of relied and let his head fall into his hands, muttering praises to the Angel and wondering what his brother had gotten himself into this time.

"Would you mind answering a few questions for us?" Blue asked.

The student nodded. Black pulled out a little notebook and began to jot down notes.

"What did you mean when you said you thought somebody had hurt your brother again? Has he been involved in anything that has concerned you?"

Letting out a sigh, Dream sat back. "It's not that. At least, I hope it's not," he told Black, giving him a skeptical glance, "it's just ever since what happened to him when we were kids, I've always been afraid I'm going to wake up and find out he's been snatched away."

Black narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

With a somber look of someone who has repeated a painful story so many times that he can repeat it with almost clinical cognitive dissonance, Dream said, "We are talking about my brother, Night? Umbra Excelsior?" Black nodded, drawing another strengthening sigh from Dream. "When we were little, our parents split up for a while. Things got pretty heated in the house and he decided he couldn't taken the mess we were being dragged through, and he ran away from home. I still think he did it so they would stop shouting and being hurtful to one another in front of me as it scared me. While he was gone, he got snatched up by some humans and, well...he is not exactly who he used to be because of that."

Blue looked around a bit and saw a water cooler in the corner. "Hold that thought," he told Dream with a pat on his shoulder. The detective quickly retrieved a cup of water and brought it back to the other skeleton, who gratefully accepted it. "Did you run all of the way here because you were worried about that?"

A sardonic, empty chuckle left Dream and he nodded. "Yes."

"When was the last time you saw your brother?"

"About a month ago, a little before his lease was up," Dream said.

"Do you happen to know where he is?"

With a heavy sigh, Dream shook his head. "I wish I could tell you, Detective, but I haven't seen him since. We...we had a fight, and he took off _again_!" The last word was punctuated with a growl, and Dream threw his arm exasperatedly into the air before letting his palm come to rest over his eye sockets. "He always does this! He was doing so well. He and Axe were going to therapy, Axe was talking about maybe bringing his brother up here once they were better off, and..."

Dream lowered the hand from his face and stared down into his cup. "I think he starts these fights on purpose to isolate himself. It is as if he thinks he is a constant burden. It was that way when our parents were fighting over their financial situation, and it has been that way ever since he started his recovery."

Black etched down a quick couple of notes. They weren't exactly getting anywhere with Dream just rambling the way he was, but Black knew that sometimes frazzled relatives gave away more information if you just let them continue with their emotional schpeel.

With a bit of gentle guidance, of course.

"By 'recovery', you mean...?"

"You have seen my brother, have you not? How he is a skeleton and yet...more?" Black nodded. "Believe it or not, we are twins. When we were children, we looked almost exactly the same. Before our magic coloring settled, even our own parents had difficulty in telling us apart."

"Well, when he was captured, he wound up in the hands of some very messed up individuals," he looked up at Black, "humans that your organization managed to track down. Do you happen to recall Operation Overture?"

Black dropped his notebook, his pencil rolling across the floor, forgotten as those two words set off every alarm in his head.

It had been a long time since he had heard those words together. A very long time. While it had mostly dulled in the minds of the general public, it was a mission that no one who had been working Interpol during that time nor since could forget from the sheer level of atrocities committed. It had been downplayed to the public at that time, mostly to keep the identities of the remaining victims involved a secret, and that might had led to its being more easily forgotten.

But Black? Black knew.

Black _remembered_.

He had not realized that he had been absentmindedly rubbing at the crack in the bone around his eye until Blue touched his knee. He then realized the other was holding out his pencil and looking at him, puzzled.

"Here, you might need this," he said. Black steeled himself so that his voice would not betray him, but now his hearing became attuned to every syllable that Dream uttered. "Operation Overture? Was your brother involved in that?"

Solemnly, Dream nodded.

"We still aren't sure how he managed to survive," he said, "he was taken by one of the higher-ranking members in the group and experimented on. That is why he looks the way he does now. It was some sort of magical experimentation. Injections. SOUL experiments."

Black felt sick to his stomach. The case had been far-reaching so he had neither witnessed nor learned about the group that had been taken for experimentation, but he very much knew who Nightmare was now:

The sole survivor of that group, only alive because the experiments had backfired and he had managed to escape during transport to another facility. Chances were, if he hadn't, nobody would have found him. The only problem was they never found the original lab he was taken to because the transport truck had been literally _eviscerated_ \- its crew slaughtered, the only monster remaining found verging on the edge of collapse and surrounded by burning metal, dust, and gore.

A monster child who had to grow up corrupted with increased LV.

"You know the case well, I take it?"

Black slowly nodded.

"Then you can imagine that my brother did not enjoy an easy childhood," Dream added. "He got dragged through the trials, has been forced to keep his corrupted form as a reminder of the torture he went through. People called him a nightmare because of his anger issues and how he would lash out at school. They did the same thing to Axe and his brother Sugar, calling them names like "horror" and "crooks" because of the mutilations they received as victims of the same bunch. But you know what?" Dream pointed to himself. " _My brother_ didn't just roll over and dust. My brother took the name Nightmare and turned it into his moniker. He made it his name and brandished it like the title of a warrior. Sure, he's had some problems, but he has been a strong influence on Axe. I know they got pulled into that bar brawl a while ago, but they didn't start it. Even the bartender spoke for them on how my brother tried to stop it! I just...I just wish...I could have made things easier on him growing up."

Dream's words faded away and he looked as though his exhaustion had permeated his very marrow. It was an expression that no one so young should have worn.

"It sounds like your brother and his friend have been through a great ordeal," Blue finally said after giving Dream a moment to rest.

"They have," Dream said, "but Axe was a lot worse off before he met my brother. His cranial trauma has caused him some behavioral issues, but getting help really stabilized him and started helping his short term memory and aggression. They may not have endured the same trials, but as victims from factions of the same ring, they seemed to have forged a sort of survivor's solidarity between the two of them," he said, taking another sip from his water. "They met in therapy, you know."

"What made you two fight?"

Dream's frown deepened. "Everything...and nothing. The same as usual. Nightmare started to isolate himself again and there was nothing I nor our parents could do to get him to see reason. After that, he just cut contact with me and I found out that his lease was up not long after that. Last time he pulled something like this, he wound up travelling cross-country and somehow wound up in the same bakery where Sugar worked, collected his thoughts, got a job and started therapy again. I can only hope he will go the same route this time."

Black pulled out his phone and showed off the still of the aquatic monster from the beach footage. "Do you have any idea who she is?"

Dream looked over the screenshot and shook his head. "No, is it someone my brother knows?"

Blue piped up with, "We believe so. Do you happen to have your brother or Axe's numbers so that we may get in touch with them?"

Dream pulled out his phone. "You can try. Axe had a bad problem with losing phones due to his memory problems. However, when Nightmare's in one of his moods like this, he usually throws his phone away and disappears for a while before he resurfaces. He hasn't answered any of my calls or texts in weeks, so I must assume that is what has happened. I just wish he realized how much this hurts me, how much it hurts our parents..."

After relaying the telephone number and asking if they had any more questions, Black told Dream he could leave and to let them know if he heard anything. They followed the young skeleton out into the hallway and watched him leave. Once he was out of earshot, Blue leaned in toward Black and murmured low enough for his words not to carry.

"Seems that boy's brother has been through quite a lot, eh, Detective Swapfell?"

Black nodded. "Indeed. From my guess, I would suppose his entire career path has been passed upon finding a way to help his brother."

Blue smiled. "I was thinking the same thing. He seems like a good kid. I would bet he would do anything for his brother."

Black narrowed his eyes at the implication. "Who wouldn't for family?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you folks think? Think Dream is covering up for Nightmare? Why do you suppose Nightmare and Axe were involved in the night that Prescott disappeared? And just what does that aquatic monster have to do with any of this?
> 
> Check out my Tumblr for all my other cool links, art and such! The YouTube is funny, too!  
> TUMBLR: https://readwithdetermination.tumblr.com/  
> YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCaQd1Pjqd6plN9Z8EjmvVvg


End file.
